


Written On the Scars of Our Hearts

by JerseyBittons



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Adorkable Sans, Anime, Body Scan/Awareness Meditation, Car Accident, Cinnamon Roll Papyrus (Undertale), Crying, Developing Friendships, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Forgiveness, Goat Mom Is Best Mom (Undertale), Healing, Hugs, Hurt Sans, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Mentions of drinking and gambling, Most of the time, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Papyrus is a Good Brother, Poor Sans (Undertale), Psychology, Racism, Reader is PATIENT, Reader is a good person, Sans (Undertale) Has Issues, Sans (Undertale) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sans (Undertale) Needs a Hug, Specism, Stabbing, Suicide attempt?, Swearing, Talking, Therapy, Trust Issues, Unconsciousness, Undyne and Alphys messed up, Undyne what the hell, Verbal Abuse, Vulnerable Sans, Worried Papyrus (Undertale), You and Undyne don't get along-yet, breakdown - Freeform, fractured bones, injuries, poor alphys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2019-10-13 16:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 59,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17491196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JerseyBittons/pseuds/JerseyBittons
Summary: You, Jocasta (Joe) Taylor, were known for never being one to take sides. You were a pacifist. A peace maker. You'd rather turn tail, run, and be branded as a coward than face any sort of conflict. Which was one of the reasons you were packing up and leaving Ebott City for the States. Monsters had emerged nearly a year ago from the mountain, and since then there had been a political, religious, ethical, and moral uprising. A lot of people wanted to give Monsters equal rights...and a lot of people didn't. True to yourself, you were on the fence, and you were sick of everyone trying to pull you one way or another.But fate has a funny way of tugging people along a path they least expect. Unfortunately, it's going to take a lot of support from your friends, old and new, for you to go through with it all...With the help of one small skeleton in particular.





	1. Expectations and Reality

**Author's Note:**

> Yup, you read correctly. Yet another Sans/Reader story. ;) Dig in and hold on tight, it's gonna be a bumpy ride!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ZERAGII FOR THE COVER ART! And for telling how to copy and paste it right into the story.

You grit your teeth, your fingers tightening around the steering wheel of your car so hard the leather creaked beneath your grasp. Your brown eyes stared with fuming anger at the road ahead, the heat of your gaze not dampened in the slightest by the reflective shielding of your thick-rimmed glasses. It was dark and rainy, a typical March night, the street lights blazing in your vision, made all the worse by the water on the asphalt. You didn't care. You let your anger drive your foot, heavy as lead, against the gas peddle, almost daring some policeman to stop you. You needed someone to fling your frustrations at, and a cop was as good as anyone. It was a bad idea, completely illogical, but, then again, since when had you ever been logical?

Pfft. Never.

If you were to go by your mother's own, jagged words, you were a wuss. A crybaby. A _wimp_. Someone who couldn't be trusted with the time of day, because you couldn't be properly counted on without there always being that heavy possibility of you backing out with some lame excuse. And what hurt the most, was that those accusations weren't entirely untrue. You were anxious. And that anxiety was always greatly increased by the ultimate insensitivity that your mother and other family members, and even a majority of your friends, tended to heap on your shoulders.

Well. Tonight had been the last straw.

Some people had families that were close and filled with wonderful relationships of love and affection. Some people had families that weren't quite picture perfect, maybe had a few bad quarrels once in a while, but it only made them all the stronger when they kissed and made up. Families were supposed to support each other. Family was supposed to love and nurture. Home was supposed to be a place you could feel happy and safe; somewhere you looked forward to returning to if you went away on vacation or something. It was a place that was supposed to feel and smell familiar, filled with happy childhood memories and the aroma of your mother's peanut butter cookies.

Home and family were all of these things, to everyone it seemed...but you.

You hadn't even really understood the difference until you were older; that families elsewhere enjoyed each other's company, loved one another and at least _tried_ to understand and tolerate each other. You'd never had that; that comfort; that support. Family gatherings at your house had always been hard, as far back as you could remember. A time when all your relatives got together to argue and generally have a thoroughly unpleasant time, nagging and assigning blame over incidents long since passed. It always ended the same, with your mother storming off into some side room somewhere in the house and everyone else verbally biting into each other as to whose fault it was. You were always shoved in between them as mediator, and you hated it. You were the one everyone always turned to in the heat of argument, trying to get you to take their side. Usually it was your loud, robust Aunt Germanii, or your snooty cousin Luich. Tonight though...Tonight it had been your mother.

It wasn't like you weren't used to your mother's manipulations. She was a thin, whiny woman, inclined to shopping sprees and spending far too much money; and yet, to your knowledge, she had never bought you a decent thing in your life. Your clothes had always been hand-me-downs, until you were old enough to get a job and pay for your own fashion wear. Birthdays and Christmases had come and passed, and, if you were lucky, maybe you got a cheap necklace or a pair of inexpensive shoes. Not that you cared about that now, but as a child it had been hard, especially when all of your friends were always showing off their new toys and gadgets.

You'd been afraid to admit it, even to yourself, back when you were little, but now you had no problem labeling your mother for what she was. A selfish, self-centered jerk. It felt good to let that thought rocket through your brain, heated and bitter, but it would feel so much more freeing if it wasn't then followed by feelings of guilt and remorse. Because, for all your mother had put your through, you still loved her. Unfortunately, that always made her harsh words all the more scarring.

During the family get-together at your house tonight, your mother had ended up in her bedroom again, as was the usual. Deciding that you'd rather deal with her than your bickering relatives, you had followed, knocking on the closed bedroom door until it finally opened and your mother let you in. You had hoped, in some twisted, desperate sort of way, that her letting you in was some kind of step forward in your relationship, a mending of sorts. Come to find out, she had really only allowed you to enter so that she could dig her metaphorical claws into you.

_"Don't take their sides, you ungrateful child! I'm the one who raised you!"_

_"Mom, I'm twenty-seven, not a child. And I'm not taking anyone's side-"_

_"That's your problem! You're so wishy-washy. Always on the fence about everything. And here I thought I raised an intelligent girl who could make her own decisions, but I guess I was wrong! You're just like your ass of a father, and you'll end up like him someday, lying in a ditch somewhere, no doubt!"_

You had been stunned, struck dumb by her words as you backed away. Your mother had followed you, looming over you like the ring-wreath she was. As soon as you had retreated far enough, she had slammed the bedroom door in your face, a bitter  _"Leave me alone!"_ muffled through the oak wood. Your relatives, your aunts, uncles, and cousins had all fallen silent; you could practically hear them listening from the living room, before conversation continued in vicious, gossiping whispers. Angry, wounded tears had started to gather in your eyes, a pain in your heart so sharp you nearly gave in and let it consume you. It had hurt so much.

It still did.

Now, tearing down the roadway through Ebott's more rural region, you gripped the steering wheel even harder, only releasing one hand for a moment to angrily shove a hand between your glasses and your face, roughly brushing away the hot tears that resided there. Your mother wanted you to make a damn decision? Fine. That was exactly what you had done.

When that moment of pain and despair had hit you, washing over you in the carpeted hallway of your own home, you had been suddenly spurred to action by a far stronger emotion: rage. You had torn into your bedroom, locked the door, and pulled out your outdated laptop, slamming the type keys with each letter you tapped into the search engine. It was surprisingly easy to find a legitimate site for the Ebott City Skylines, and even easier to use your credit card to buy a one way ticket to the States. You didn't have all that much money, but like hell you were going to care about that. You would have given an arm and a leg at that point to escape to some far off land. The idea had crossed your mind more than once, but never intensely enough to prompt you to action. Now, you had done it.

You were leaving.

You couldn't handle this anymore.

The arguing.

The anger.

The verbal abuse.

If your mother and family had ever loved you, that love had long since faded away to something sour and hollow. The last time you could remember even any semblance of kindness was back when you were a little girl, five years old and as naive as they come; back when you would spend time with your father. The man was a drunkard, he gambled like it was in his blood, but to you he had always had a heart as pure and gentle as summer rain. He never talked down to you, he never beat you, he never acted like you weren't worth the air you breathed. He was a sorrowful drunk if anything, cuddling and telling you, his only child, his woes in a slow, mellow tone. You hadn't understood then, but you understood now. Those looks your family gave you on a regular basis - those were the same looks they used to give your father. Like you were an insect. Like you were a burden. You wouldn't be surprised if it was your mother who had driven your father to such a dreadfully desperate life of chance and drink. You didn't blame him in the least. Not even for his sudden disappearance, when you were just about to turn six years old. Everyone said he was dead, even though no body was ever found, but you refused to believe them.

Maybe he had done what you were doing now.

Maybe he had reached his end one night, bought some ticket to some far off corner of the globe and faded into some other life, apart and safe from the nagging hatred of the Taylor family, and its oppressive offshoots. Something deep down inside you understood, trumping any bitterness there might have been. You loved your father. You knew he had loved you.

You weren't happy here in Ebott. You hated being constantly effected by your family's quarrels. You were a pacifist. A peace maker. You'd rather turn tail, run, and be branded as a coward than face any sort of conflict. And it wasn't just your home troubles that were pushing you to these drastic measures. Ebott City was a veritable boiling stew of conflict; the very center of news and fame for the past year, and you hated that almost as much as you hated everything else in your life. Monsters had emerged nearly a year ago from the mountain, and since then there had been a political, religious, ethical, and moral uprising. A lot of people wanted to give Monsters equal rights...and a lot of people didn't. True to yourself, you were on the fence, and you were sick of everyone trying to pull you one way or another. Hate posters littered every telephone pole. Commercials for one faction or another cluttered television to the point where it was upsetting. Sure, some of them were _for_ Monsters, which was slightly more uplifting, but the majority talked like you had to be an idiot to even _consider_ Monsters equal to humans. The city had been split in two, both sides needlessly vicious and insensitive toward each other, or toward those, like yourself, who still weren't sure what they believed.

But that didn't matter now. Soon you would be on your way to the States. Soon you would be far away from all the chaos and pain that had stacked up against you for years.

Jocasta Taylor had had _enough_.

With and sharp twist of your wrist, you flipped the dial on your car radio, blaring the first station that came on, even though the song was so badly laced with static you could barely make out the words. God, how you hated your mother. You hated your family. You hated Ebott City. You hated Monsters. Hell, you'd even go so far as to say you hated the world and everything in it. You were so full of anger you could barely trust yourself to focus on that hatred too clearly, for fear it would turn inward and you would drive yourself off the road. It would be so easy, to just throw your life away and not have to deal with any of your shit anymore, but the prospect of a better life, far away someplace else, gave you the strength to keep your hands steady on the wheel.

What with the blaring radio, the angry tears in your eyes, and the shifting colors and lights through the rain on your windshield, you completely missed the short, stocky figure that suddenly stepped out ahead of your car's path until it was too late. You gasped, foot slamming down on your breaks, your tires squealing against the wet pavement, sliding against the moisture on the road even as you tried to swerve.

It was to late.

_THUNMK!_

You hadn't hit the person head on, but there was no mistaking that sickening sound. The sound of a body thudding up against the metal passenger side of your car just as you slid to a harsh and sudden stop. Your wrist throbbed with a sharp pain, sprained most likely from your sudden, lurching collision with your own steering wheel, but you ignored it. You sat there, tears forgotten, blinking in shock, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your throat.

"Oh my god..." Numbed horror consumed you as it sunk in what you had just done. "Oh my god, no...No no no!" 

You fumbled, _struggled_ , with your seat belt, the stupid thing catching and tangling around your arm as you tried to get free. You banged your knee against the steering column, hissing in pain as it sent tingles up your leg, but you ignored that small pain too. It was dark in the car, making it hard for you to see the door handle, but after a moment of grasping you found it, slamming your body against the door, opening it and completely freeing yourself all in one violent movement. You stumbled out into the road, vaguely mindful of any oncoming cars, and shakily hustled your way to the front of your car. The rain was cold and wet on your skin, a chilling sensation that only heightened your senses, preventing you from trying to pretend this was nothing more than a bad dream.

Your headlights were still on - you had left your car running - casting twin beams into the fog. The whoosh of a passing car seemed exceptionally loud, spraying more water on you as it rushed by, it's driver, apparently, unconcerned by your dilemma. You made your way forward, dread and panic racing through your veins. You rounded your bumper, images of some bloody, broken body your terrified expectation. you came to a rigid halt, breathing heavily as you beheld your unintended victim.

There, slumped limply on the roadside, just where the asphalt turned to damp, soaked grass, lay a crumpled form. They were mostly clothes, from what you could tell, a blue, oversized hoodie catching the rain like a sponge, dampening the fabric to a dull navy. They were curled up, back facing you and hoodie raised up over the back of their head. You couldn't see any of their limbs, and you prayed you hadn't knocked their arms and legs right off. Like that could actually happen. 

You were an idiot.

"Oh god! Oh god oh god oh god!"

You knelt down, dirt and gravel digging into your knees and your brain shoving into overdrive, going from numb to outright panic in an instant. At first, going by the size of the person you had hit, you thought it was a child. You weren't sure you could mentally handle the guilt that would carry. Then again, even a full grown adult would still be devastating. You should have been paying better attention. You shouldn't have been driving mad. You had probably been speeding.

You shouldn't have left home.

Where angry tears had existed only moments before, tears of terror and overwhelm trailed down your cheeks. You hovered your hands over the body, hands trembling. You were afraid to turn them over, you were afraid to move them at all. You were no nurse, after all, and knew absolutely nothing about injuries or how to treat them. But something in the back of your mind drudged up some long forgotten memory that it was typically a bad idea to move someone who had been hurt without knowing what their injuries consisted of. Even then, you were torn as to what to do. You couldn't just leave them like this, laying there like a damp little speed bump.

"Please don't be dead!" you sobbed. "Please! Please!" You reached down and gently took hold of their shoulder. It was cold and wet, bony beneath your touch. Gritting your teeth, you carefully, gently, turned them unto their back, mindful to support them in a way that would hopefully protect their back, in case it was broken.

The light from your car cast across your victim's face, and you choked back a scream.

That was not the face of a child.

That was not the face of a _human_.

.

.

.

That was the face of a monster.


	2. Taking Responsibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Zeragii from Deviantart for the illustration! Maybe I can get her to do more. Her art is awesome!

That was the face of a monster.

A real, living monster. Or- oh, god, you hoped it was still living. You stared down into its face, taking in the bony, inhuman features. That smooth, pearly white surface, lids closed over abnormally large eyes. There was a little 'A'-shaped hole, marking where a nose might have been had it been any other being.  _A skeleton monster_ , your brain supplied, a mix of fascination and hesitance sweeping over you. You had heard there were a few in the city; you had seen the news clips of a small child named Frisk, the youngest ambassador in history, surrounded by a group of creatures they called their family. You distinctly remembered two skeletons among them - how could you not? It had instantly both freaked you out and captured your somewhat morbid interests.

It hit you that not only had you hit someone with your car - a monster - but that this monster could very well be someone important in the current political circle. Your throat clenched tighter, your chest feeling heavy. You were so screwed. You didn't need this, you didn't need to deal with this shit when you were finally on your way out, when you had finally dredged up the gumption to leave your family situation and try for a better life. But you couldn't walk away now. Despite your father's less-than-moral tendencies, he had taught you one very important things, and that was if you made a mistake, you needed to follow that mistake through until it became right.

If this monster was hurt, you needed to help them. If this monster was dead...Well, if they were dead, you needed to find his family and do whatever you could to lessen the pain their passing caused. 

Heart racing, you finished settling the little creature onto its back. You had never been a very tall person, barely a solid five foot one, but next to you this monster was small. You guessed that, standing side by side, they'd only come up to your about your shoulder. They were light, barely any weight at all as you carefully manhandled them so lay were laid out straight. You hovered your hands over their chest, watching with baited breath for some sign of life. Your understanding, limited though it was on the subject of monsters, skeleton's specifically, was that monsters were creatures of magic, and didn't always conform to humanity's concepts of logic and existence. A human skeleton would have laid dead and un-breathing, lacking organs or any normal human function. Skeletal monsters, so you had heard, were different. You recalled some scientist on television ranting about the miracle of science they were, of how they ate and drank and lived regardless of the innards such actions required. That gave you hope that maybe, just maybe, skeleton monsters breathed. You needed some sign, however small, that you had not just murdered another living being.

It was a long, painful eternity, kneeling in the cold rain, before you saw it. The slight, shallow rise and fall of the monster's chest.

They were alive.

You breathed a choked sigh of relief, sitting back on your heels and tilting your face up toward the sky. The raindrops landed, cold little kisses that mixed with your warm tears. "Thank god," you murmured. "Oh, thank god, _thank god_."

Your relief was short lived as you realized things were still far from alright. Alive though they may be, you still had yet to ensure they stayed that way. You stood up, stiff, and rushed back to the driver's side of your car. The radio was still on, blasting its distorted notes and static far too loudly for your current mood. You pulled open the door, turned the engine off but left the headlights on, turned off the radio, and grabbed your phone from where you had thrown it in the cup holder. You left the car door open this time, preoccupied with unlocking your device as you hurried back to the poor creature's side. You remained standing, thumbing through your contacts before realizing how stupid that was and simply punching in the numbers 9 - 1- 1. Rain had soaked through your clothes, and your phone was a good deal wetter than was probably good for it, but you didn't care. A phone could be replaced; a life couldn't be.

You held the phone up to your ear and crouched down beside your patient/victim. You fixed your eyes on their slack face, wondering if there was something more you could do. You wanted to help, but you knew better than to do too much on your own. Paramedics would be far more knowledgeable, you were sure. You didn't want to hurt the monster further with your ignorance.

The phone only rang a few times before it picked up, a woman's professionally calm voice answering, clipped and to the point.

_"Nine-one-one operator. What is your emergency?"_

Your took a shivering breath. Your voice was shaky, and you weren't sure if it was shock, fear, or the fact you had been standing outside without a jacket in the pouring rain for over ten minutes. "H-Hi, I'm, um, I'm of route three, just outside of Ebott and-a-and I hit someone with my car." You felt ashamed and desperate as you said it. "I didn't mean to," you added. "It's just it was dark and raining and suddenly they were there and I couldn't stop and-"

_"Ma'am, I need you to stay calm for me, alright? Can you do that for me?"_

"Y-Yeah."

_"Good. Good, thank you. You said you're where? Just outside the city on route three?"_

"Yes. Yes, and I hit them really hard. I tried to - to stop, but the road was wet and slippery. They're unconscious."

_"They're unconscious?"_

"Yes."

_"Are they breathing?"_

"Y-Yeah, they are." That, at least, you could say with certainty.

_"Are there any other visible injuries?"_

You winced, feeling like a fool. "I...I don't know. I'm afraid to move them."

 _"That's alright. The paramedics will be there_ shortly." There was some muffled words as the operator said something to someone else, before returning the conversation back to you. _"Okay, what is your name, ma'am?"_

You hesitated for only a second, any reservations about revealing your identity lost when you again looked to the limp monster at you side. "My name is Jocasta Taylor. Please, I'm so sorry, I need you to help them-"

_"I'm sending a dispatch now. Don't hang up, ma'am, help is on the way, okay?"_

You swallowed, forcing yourself to breath evenly. "O-Okay."

_"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"_

"N-No. No, I'm fine." You ignored your sore wrist. It wasn't even worth mentioning. "Will they be here soon?"

_"The dispatch is being called in. They're on their way. Don't hang up."_

"I won't."

_"Can you describe the person you hit? Are they male or female?"_

"I-" You cut yourself off, realizing you didn't know. You had been referring to the monster as 'it' and 'them/they', but if you had to make a guess, going by their attire, they might be male. "Male, I think...It's...it's really hard to tell. I'm not used to seeing monsters in person, so I-"

_"Ma'am, did you say the person you hit is a monster?"_

You frowned, a little red flag raising up in your brain at the uncertain tone in the operator's voice. "Um, yes. They - he? - looks like a skeleton. They're-"

_"Ma'am, I'm sorry, but none of our branches are equipped to treat monsters of any kind."_

You blink, an unsettling realization blooming in your thoughts. "W-What?"

_"I said that none of our branches are equipped to treat monsters of any kind. I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to have to cancel the dispatch."_

Stunned shock flowed through you, numbing your thoughts. You stood slowly to your feet, eyes focusing off into the surrounding darkness as you grappled with what you had just heard. Call back the dispatch? As in, they weren't coming?! Sudden, righteous rage, unlike any you had ever felt in your life, filled you. You gripped your phone so hard the casing gave a warning crackle.  _"What?!"_ you growled.

_"I'm sorry, ma'am, but-"_

"You mean to tell me your going to just-?!" You couldn't believe this. "Your going to fucking just _leave_  him like this! He needs help! He's hurt! He's a living creature! Where's your humanity?! Where's your-?!"

 _"I'm sorry, ma'am. There's nothing I can do."_ And the call fell dead.*

You stood there, like an idiot in the raid with your phone against your ear for a solid five seconds before you through your phone into the road in un-suppressed anger, an intense scream of frustration ripping from your throat like you were some primal beast. A very un-womanly sound. You swore and swore and cursed mankind for its racism - specism? - letting out all your frustrations before you collapsed into a sit on the roadside, face in your hands.

"I can't believe this," you groaned in denial. "I can't believe anyone would just leave someone to die." And to think you had been bemoaning your hatred of all things living on the planet earth only a short time ago, monsters among them. Karma was a bitch. The universe just loved turning things on you so that you felt more like trash than usual. "I...I c-can't believe this..."

You sat there for a little while, though it probably felt longer than it really was, your gaze slowly ping-ponging between the still unconscious monster and the two-hundred dollar phone you had totally just smashed to smithereens on the roadway. Bitterness and regret ate at your heart, and still you were angry enough to bash somebody's brains in. And to think you considered yourself a non-violent person on a typical day. Apparently all it took was seeing humanity for the bastard it was to get you riled.

You glanced back at the monster, scooching forward until you were close enough that his - if they were indeed a he - damp jacket pressed up against your leg.

"I...I can't just leave you here," you murmured, feeling bold enough to reach out and ever so gently smooth your thumb over the creature's brow. It was softer than you imagined it would be. Smooth and cold like bone should be, but more pliable. Like a plastic bag filled with oobleck*. Tears of both anger and frustration poured down your cheeks. Your eyes were going to be so puffy in the morning. You'd probably look like those weird, bug-eyed fish you sometimes saw at the pet store. Who cared. You needed to cry. This was _worth_ crying over. "I won't leave you," you decided, feeling something like purpose filling you. You grit your teeth, sitting up straighter and moving so that you were more leaning over the monster now. "I'm going to help you," you tell him. "And damn everyone else."

You stood back up yet again, this time running to your open car door just long enough to press the button to unlock the back hatch. It popped open and you ran to the rear of your car. It wasn't very big, as far as cars go; a black and white 20XX MPV/MUV that you had managed to buy for cheap off of a friend who was moving out of town. It had a lot more mileage on it than you cared for, but it got a lot of miles per gallon and that was good. It was also equipped with back seats that could fold down into the floor. You had already lowered one row, to make room for all you had packed when you left home. You had known you wouldn't be able to take it all on the plane, certainly not the whole car, but you had planned to drop everything off at your friend Mindy's house in the neighboring town. She'd be able to find a way to send you your stuff, and you were thinking you could give her your car until you could pay to have it shipped to the States.

You shoved your luggage and boxes of junk forward toward the front of the car, struggling a moment before managing to lower the second row of seats into the floor, opening up the back of your car, leaving it clear. It had a low ceiling; you'd have to sit hunched up inside if you were really going to do this, but it was a hell of a lot better than staying out any longer in the rain.

Task accomplished, you climbed in just long enough to dig around until you found a blanket. It was warm and thick beneath your wet, cold fingers. You tried to continue to ignore how cold you were, but your teeth were chattering. 

You laid out the blanket until it covered every inch of your trunk, then scrambled backward to stand back outside your car. You hadn't seen any passing vehicles for a while, but it was late, so you guessed that was probably why. You hurried back over to the monster's side, crouching once more and giving him a sympathetic look.

"I really hope you're not injured too badly, but...I need to get you out of this rain." You very gently started taking the creature up into your hold, an arm bracing along his spin, and cradling his skull in the crook of your other arm. Convinced you had a fair enough grip on him, you braced your back and lifted. Again, you were surprised by how little the monster weighed. 

The monster gave a soft sound of distress at being moved, fingertips twitching and breath stuttering a moment before evening back out to that weak, shallow rhythm.

"Shit...Shit, I'm sorry, little guy," you breathed in apology. "You're going to be okay." You swallowed, throat tight and heart heavy for the being no one else in the world seemed to care about. You choked on your emotions. You knew how that felt, in some twisted mirror sort of way. "I promise."

You carried the poor thing back to the open back of your car, carefully maneuvering until you were both in the trunk, the monster laying on the blanket at your side as you reached up and closed the hatch from the inside. Now comfortably trapped indoors, with the patter of rain against the room and the wind chill gone, you felt a little more in your element. Mindful not to step on your charge, you snaked your body up over the stack of junk to the front seat, stretching with a groan before finally succeeding in turning the key in the ignition. Deftly, you turned on the hot air to full force, hoping to take the cold out of the car's interior before you both fell ill. As it was, you were pretty sure a cold, at the very least, awaited you in the future. 

Feeling that the air was already warming, you shuffled back to the monster's side, kneeling down and gazing at him with uncertainty. "You, uh...You can't stay in those wet clothes," you said, even though you knew he couldn't hear you. "And...I also sort of, kind of, have to check you for any injuries, so...I'm sorry for this, but it's for your own health."

With that less-than-comforting comment, you moved to start helping the monster out of his jacket, starting with his hood, which, somehow, was still covering a fair portion of his skull. It occurred to you that he might have been out in the rain for quite a while, for the fabric to cling to him so stubbornly. 

The instant you removed the hood, you cringed. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, and double triple shit.

A crack, thin but definitely noticeable, ran up the length of the right side of the monster's skull. It looked incredibly painful, a strange gray dust surrounding the edges of the wound like a film. At first, you though maybe he had gotten dirt in it when he fell, but then you remembered that monsters, again, were nothing like humans. They didn't bleed. They...dusted? Horror filled you as the realization sunk home. This was the monster's version of bleeding, you supposed, and evidence of your careless driving only succeeded in making you feel more guilty.

Spurred by your anxiety, you began removing the skeleton's clothes, staying strictly above the belt - if the monster were wearing one. Removing the jacket and shirt was rather difficult, what with the way the fabric clung to the monster's bones, but you managed, and before long you had a half naked skeleton lying beside you, still worryingly limp. Your heart sank as you surveyed the now visible damage. Cracks, much like the ones on his skull, marred nearly his whole right side, a complex network of painful looking fractures, and one spot, near what you could see of his...hip? - that almost looked splintered. 

You felt sick.

All your confidence dipped down below that floating hope you had dredged up, leaving you feeling lost and completely out of your league. "I can't...do this alone," you murmured. "There's no way I can do this alone, I don't...I don't have the know how to help you..."

Your eyes flitted to the monster's track shorts, which you had left untouched. Your own phone was ruined due to your little fit, but it occurred to you that the monster might have some sort of cellular device of his own. At the very least, you would be able to call Mindy and ask for help. Then again...maybe you could figure out a way to call the injured monster's family. Or...friends? Someone. Someone who would be able to help him more efficiently than you could. Mind made up, you leaned forward and carefully brushed your fingers over the two visible pockets, finding something hard and phone shaped on the monster's left him. Thank god it hadn't been on his right side, or it would have gotten smashed...like the rest of him had.

You apologized under your breath as you gently dug into his pocket, pulling forth a very sleek and expensive looking phone. You sat back, crossing your legs as you gave the device a tap, grateful when it turned on easily. You were even more grateful when you discovered that this particular monster hadn't bothered to set a number lock on his phone. You held down the little lock symbol and then beheld the colorful screen as you were granted access. You couldn't help smiling a little at the background image, despite the situation. It depicted your monster looking quite happy, eyes closed and grin wide, with a much lankier skeleton monster behind him. The smaller was making finger guns at the other, who seemed especially peeved over whatever was being implied or said. You were now very sure that the monster beside you was indeed among those you had seen on the news. You recognized the taller skeleton, remembering how he had been particularly energetic on live TV. You weren't sure if the two skeletons were related or not, but the way the picture depicted them, you were certain they were very close.

Deftly, you opened the phone's contact app, finding it to be quite extensive, and all of which were given very funny titles.

_'fishbreath'_

_'alphthescifiqueen'_

_'kiddo'_

_'tori'_

_'hotshotgrillbz'_

_'fluffybuns'_

The list went on and on, an seemingly endless parade of hilarious names that, for the sake of each and every one of them, you hoped was not their real names. You tried not to get too involved in browsing them, finding it too easy to get distracted and waste time amusing yourself. You had a skeleton to help. He had already suffered enough by your hand; the least you could do was get him the assistance he needed as soon as possible. He started moving through the list more quickly, until you found a name that was typed in all caps:

_'THE GREAT PAPYRUS'_

That sounded like a good bet. Seeing as all the other names had been written in lowercase, this one seemed particularly important. Hesitating only long enough to gather your nerve, you selected the name and held the phone to your ear. Your heart was racing again, your mind stumbling over what you would say; how you would break the news to whoever answered. The phone rang a grand total of three times before it picked up with a click. There was a second where you thought you could hear multiple voices in the background, before a very loud and boisterous voice nearly blasted out your ear drum.

"SANS?! SANS, IS THAT YOU?! YOU LAZYBONES, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! WE'VE BEEN WORRIED SICK!"

You swallowed, that sick feeling returning as your nerve withered like a daisy in the desert. You subconsciously reached out a hand to lay very gently on your charge's - Sans's? - shoulder. Protective. Grounding. Reminding you why you were doing this. "U-Um, h-hello, I-"

"OH. HELLO." The speaker was softer now, confused, though still rather loud for a normal talking voice. "YOU'RE NOT SANS."

No. No you weren't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I had to do a little bit of research on how emergency call operators typically handle an emergency call. To do so, I had to read and watch some examples, and actually found them pretty upsetting. Not that I'm a wimp or anything, it's just kind of hard to listen to people being talked through something horrible, and hearing how scared they are. Makes my throat get all tight, you know?
> 
> * Oobleck is a substance that acts like a liquid, and can be poured, but that acts like a solid when you apply force to it by pushing it or squeezing it. It's made by mixing cornflour (also called cornstarch) with water. Oobleck is a non-Newtonian fluid. I used to make it when I was a kid. It's pretty fucking cool.


	3. True Families Are Like These

"YOU'RE NOT SANS."

You couldn't agree more, feelings of guilt and fear rising in you so violently that you felt like you were going to puke. What if this monster hated you for what you had done? What if it wanted revenge? You wouldn't have anyone to protect you, no one to care if things ended badly. You were fairly certain your mother wouldn't even come looking for you, letting you slip away unquestioned like she had your father. The police would either call you crazy or turn you down like the 911 operator had, leaving you to fend for yourself. 

"I HOPE YOU DON'T TAKE OFFENSE, MYSTERIOUS VOICE," the person on the other side of the line continued, sounding polite, but also strained. He was worried. "BUT...WHY IS IT THAT YOU ARE USING MY BROTHER'S PHONE?"

Oh, god. His _brother?_

So this guy wasn't just the little skeleton's friend, he was his _family_. 

Oh, yup. You were dead. You were screwed. You just hoped someone would find something of you worthy of being buried. You were glad you had written out your last will and testament a year ago. That would save you feeling guilty about that at least.

For all the fears and anxieties swelling within you, all it took was another glance down at...Sans. His name was Sans. All it took was one look at the frail, broken little body and you knew you had to go through with this. Even if it meant a horrible death at the hands of scary avenging skeletons, you had to do it. You had to get Sans back to his family. Because that picture in his phone, of him and that taller skeleton, probably the very monster you were talking to, would haunt you for the rest of your life if you didn't. Just because your family was a veritable hellhole, didn't mean Sans's was. That photo belonged to someone who was happy, and loved. You couldn't take that away from him.

You couldn't take that away from either brother.

"UM, HELLO? ARE YOU STILL THERE?!"

You jolted back to focus, tightening your hand around the phone and straightening your back. "I-I'm sorry. My name is Jocasta Taylor and...and I'm calling because I'm trying to reach someone for help. Y-Your brother, um, S-Sans? He's-" Oh, god, you belonged in hell. "H-He's hurt."

"HURT?!"

There was a lot of commotion on the other end of the line at that, multiple voices, all sounding rushed and panicked, rising into a cacophony of worried shouts and demanding tones. You heard the muffled clicking of, what you guessed were, bony hands over the phone microphone, the brother's loud voice heard to understand as he spoke quickly to whoever it was that was in the room with him. There was a moment of confusion, and then the skeleton was back on the line.

"WHERE ARE YOU KIND PERSON?! CAN WE COME TO YOU?! DO YOU COME TO US?"

"I-I can, um, drive him to wherever you are if you give me the address," you stutter out, already reaching around your haphazard luggage in search of a pen and paper. Thankfully, having a hobby of drawing, you were able to locate a pencil and one of your worn sketchbooks. "I can write it down and be there as soon as I can?" You thought of the possibility that Sans's brother may live a considerable distance away from where you are; then again, Sans had been walking. How far could a little monster like him get on foot at night in the rain? You figured his house was close by.

"WE ARE AT 226 MERIAL LANE, IN THE MONSTER RESIDENT LOCATION, SECTION FOUR," the voice supplied quickly. He sounded so scared. "WE'RE A LITTLE BROWN HOUSE ON THE LEFT OFF OF CANYON STREET."

You jotted down every word. "226 Merial Lane, brown house on the left off of Canyon Street. Got it. I'll be right there with him, I promise."

"TH-THANK YOU!"

You were about to hang up when the monster's voice called back your attention.

"P-PLEASE! IF YOU COULD-" He sounded choked. "DON'T HANG UP, PLEASE? I JUST-"

You understood. "I'll stay on the line," you promised. "Just let me put the phone down for just a minute. I want to secure your brother before I start moving."

"YES, YES," the monster practically sobbed in gratitude. "THANK YOU. THANK YOU SO MUCH!"

"No problem." It was the least you could do, seeing as his brother was the way he was because of you.

You set the phone down on one of your many packing boxes, shuffling yourself until you were no longer on the blanket spread over the floor of your car. Carefully, you wrapped the injured skeleton up, swaddling him like a baby and tucking in the ends to keep the soft binding snug. You were afraid to try and leave him alone in the back while you drove, so you gently shifted him into the front passenger seat, where you could sort of buckle him in and would be able to keep a hand on him at all times while you drove, just as a precaution. Satisfied with your handiwork, you crawled into the driver's seat, picking the phone back up as you did so and pressed it back to your ear.

"Sorry. I'm back. He's secure."

"THANK YOU...HUMAN?"

"Yes." You knew he was asking. He had probably already guessed; there were very few monsters with cars or licenses in Ebott, surprisingly. "Yes, I'm a human."

"I THANK YOU THEN, HUMAN."

You winced, wishing he would stop. "I really wish you wouldn't. It's...There's more, but I'd rather tell you in person."

"O-OKAY."

Gee, great job, Jocasta. Way to comfort the terrified-for-his-brother skelly.

You pulled away from the curb, finding both satisfaction and remorse as you heard the sound of your own phone crunching beneath your tires. Well, one good thing about it was your mother wouldn't be able to reach you if she tried. Take that, verbally abusive parent.

Your on the road now. You know where Canyon Street it, and you're really not all that far away. You pull a safe and legal three point turn and head back toward the city, toward the region of the community where monsters had been allowed to temporarily settle. It's not the best part of town, houses too close together and each one somewhat shabby and lonely looking. Then again, you hadn't visited there since you were a teen. Maybe the monsters fixed it up somehow. For their sakes, you hope so.

"I AM PAPYRUS, BY THE WAY," the skeleton on the phone with you murmurs.

"It's really nice to meet you, Papyrus." Or, it will be, when you get there, and assuming he doesn't kill you for what you did to his brother. "I'm headed back toward the city. I should be at your house in ten minutes or so."

"S-SANS WAS OUTSIDE THE CITY?"

"Yeah. On the very outer fringe."

"IS HE...HOW BADLY IS HE H-HURT?"

"Um, well, I don't know how severe monster injuries are in comparison to human ones, but he had cracks all down the right side of his body. H-He's unconscious. His hip looks pretty fucked up."

"LANGUAGE."

You blink, stunned. "Um...what?"

"OH, I AM SORRY HUMAN, THAT IS A FORCE OF HABIT. THERE IS A CHILD HERE, AND I NOW HAVE YOU ON SPEAKERPHONE."

"Oh." That just made you feel more like a jerk than you did already. "Man, I'm sorry, Papyrus. I'll try to curb my language."

"THANK YOU." There was a pause, then nervously, "YOU SAID THERE WERE CRACKS?"

"Yes."

"ANY...UM, D-DUST?"

"No." You rethink that answer. "Or, well, a little bit. Just a light coating around the injuries."

Papyrus sighed audibly. "THAT IS A GOOD SIGN. NOT GREAT, OF COURSE, BUT IT COULD BE FAR WORSE."

Oh, you _know_ it could be.

You take a corner, heading into the more populated roads of Ebott. You'll have to pass through the city center, knowing grudgingly that you'll hit at least one red light along the way. As you take the corner you hold your hand out next to you, keeping Sans steady in the passenger seat. "I'm passing city hall," you inform. "Eight more minutes, if I don't hit any lights."

Papyrus huffs in answer, and you can hear those voices in the background again. The skeleton mentioned that there was a child in the room, but what you were hearing was definitely the voices of several adults. Had they been having a family get together, like your family had earlier that evening? And if so, what had Sans been doing out all alone in the rain, nearly a mile and a half from home?

You hit a red light.

"IS...IS MY BROTHER IN NEED OF DRY CLOTHES?"

"Yes," you reply, cutting off as you take another somewhat tight corner and find you have to steady Sans once again, the phone in your hand as you press him gently back into the leather seat. "He's very wet. I've already taken of his jacket and shirt. To check for injuries!" you hurriedly explain. Oh, god, that's the last thing you need; looking like some monster molester or something. "To check for injuries," you repeat, assuring.

"I UNDERSTAND, HUMAN. THANK YOU. I WILL HAVE SOMETHING WARM AND CLEAN FOR WHEN YOU ARRIVE."

"Do you have bandages?" you ask, ready to offer to pick some up, as unpractical as that thought is, but Papyrus cuts you off before you can say anything.

"NO. NO WE WILL HAVE NO NEED FOR BANDAGES. DO YOU, THOUGH, PERHAPS, HUMAN. HAVE SOME KIND OF MEDICINE FOR PAIN?"

The light turns green and you're on the move again. "I'm pretty sure I've got some ibuprofen under the dashboard," you conclude. It's been a while, but you were pretty confident that there were still several pills left. "Will that work okay?"

"IT SHOULD."

"Good." You're out of the intersection, having escaped without hitting any more red lights. It's a straight shot. "I'm just down the road. Is it okay if I hang up now?"

"YES. THANK YOU, HUMAN. WE WILL BE WAITING."

"Little brown house on the left?" you quickly reaffirm.

"YES. THERE ARE ALSO A LOT OF CHRISTMAS LIGHTS."

That would make this easier, what with it being the middle of July. It wasn't like there were all that many people with their Christmas decorations still up.

"Okay, I'll be there in just a second."

"OKAY. GOODBYE."

"Bye."

And you hang up, tossing Sans's phone into your cup-holder out of habit as you focus all your attention on closing the distance between you and Sans's family. You're on Canyon Street now, driving probably a little too fast for this neighborhood. Nope, it looks exactly how you remember it, if not worse. Oh, you could see cheerful effort had been made, but there was only so much that could be done on rows of houses so worn down by weather and life that they could easily pass as a town of the condemned.

You started to slow every time you spotted a street sign, squinting to read it's name. Finally, just when you were beginning to wonder if you had fucked up and totally gone to far or the wrong way, you spotted it.

"Merial Lane! Thank god!"

You took the final corner, bracing Sans once more. He was shivering, you realized; you hoped he wasn't going into some sort of shock...

Who were you kidding. You had just gotten hit with a car; of course he was in shock!

The little brown house was easy to find, lit up like a depressed Christmas tree, the lights themselves making up for the drabness of the entire street. Seriously, that could probably be seen from space. You ease your car into the driveway, park it, and turn off the engine in a flow of practiced movements, eyes instantly going to the two large windows in the front of the house. Yellow warmth glows within, broken only by a series of pacing shadows, one of which pulls aside the curtains just as you open your door and step outside. You run to the passenger side, opening it and unbuckling Sans with ease. Again, you take up his light form and rush mindfully up the pathway to the front door, just as said door opens to reveal the skeleton from the picture on Sans's phone.

You're out of breath and shaking, your eyes meeting his thin sockets with a mix of awe and trepidation, but Papyrus only has eyes for his brother. Wordlessly, you pass your bundle off to the tall skeleton like a marathon runner passing a baton, following closely at Papyrus's heels as he carries his brother indoors, out of the rainy weather.


	4. Guilt Unyielding

Wordlessly, you pass your bundle off to the tall skeleton like a marathon runner passing a baton, following closely at Papyrus's heels as he carries his brother indoors, out of the rainy weather.

Your first impression of Sans and Papyrus's house is that it is very small and cramped. The hallway leading from the door is so thin you have to turn sideways as you shift past a wall rack with jackets. Papyrus, being a good deal taller than you, is hindered in his movements by just how low the ceilings are, and you than your lucky stars your not claustrophobic. Despite a few taped up boxes that you have to step over, the house seemed clean and well lit, despite the wood of the hallway being that ugly brown-almost-black pine some older houses you knew of had. 

The next thing you know, you've followed Papyrus out of the hallway and into a very bright and very yellow kitchen. You instantly come to a halt, gazing in stunned surprise at just how many monsters are crammed into that one, small space. There's a yellow lizard-like monster with glasses, their scales nearly blending in with the canary wallpaper and lemon tiled floor. There's a very tall and imposing monster standing beside that one, their skin a vivid blue. Red hair, long, thick, and tied back aggressively into a ponytail, flows out behind them. There's a very large, furry monster sitting at the table with a human child in their lap. 

As awestruck, and maybe a little frightened, as you are by their presence, they monsters haven't even given you a glance, and for that you were thankful. You're perfectly happy staying just barely inside the hallway, looking in on the scene as it unfolds.

The moment Papyrus stepped into the kitchen with his brother, wrapped and small, in his arms, the other monsters snapped to attention. The yellow lizard scrambled forward, stuttering and fidgeting with her fingers like some toy wound a little too tight. The tall blue monster also moved forward, being roughly the same impressive height as Papyrus.

"B-Bring h-him to the c-couch," the yellow monster directed, pointing off to the left, where you can just made out the pale blue of living room carpeting. Their voice is high-pitched and feminine. Female, you decide. "I-I-I'll get m-my scanner! T-Toriel, he'll n-need h-healing!" She takes off up a flight of stairs next to the yellow refrigerator, disappearing into the darkness it leads to. 

Toriel, who is apparently the large, goat-ish looking monster at the table, instantly rises and starts to follow Papyrus and the red-haired monster into the living room. The human child scrambles to get out of the way, quite small next to every other occupant in the room. They end up standing near you, and for the first time you feel a part of the chaos as they look up into your face and whisper a soft and frightened 'hello'.

"Um, hi," you respond quietly.

"Thank you for bringing Sans home," they continue. They look sad, more so than a kid that age should. They're, what? Maybe seven? Eight at the oldest. "He's been missing since dinner. We thought he'd be back, but he never showed up."

"You're...You're welcome, but...You might not be so happy once I tell you how I found him."

The child cocks their head questioningly, but you don't feel like explaining yourself more than once. You and the kid are the only ones in the kitchen now, and you can hear the lizard monster tearing around upstairs. A moment later and you hear hurried steps on the staircase. When the yellow monster reappears and races into the living room, you move to follow.

The living room, thankfully, is a little more spacious than the rest of the house, though you still decide to stand on the threshold, peering in. The child had moved past you, to join the others now cluttered around a very green, worn couch. Papyrus has lain Sans down on the cushions, standing to the side as the yellow monster hovered as odd, tricorder-like device over Sans's form. The tall, tough looking blue monster is standing beside her, arms crossed and expression grim. Toriel, it would seem, had been struggling to undo the blanket you had wrapped Sans in, succeeding a moment or two after you joined them in the doorway. There were several gasps all around when the damage to the skeleton's side was revealed. You craned your neck to see, blushing a little when you remembered Sans's ribs were bare. His wet shirt and jacket were still in your car. The others didn't seem to care so much about their friend's semi-nakedness, though you thought you saw a bit of pink dust the yellow one's cheeks. A spark of color recaptured your attention and you turned to see Toriel lighting up her hands in green flame and laying them gently over the skeleton's weakly heaving chest.

Your eyes widened in surprise and fascination. You had known that monsters were magic, but you had never really known what that meant. The word 'magic' made you think of Disney movies and Harry Potter; wands, and spells, and potions. This...was different. It was a natural sort of magic, you realized. As common among monsters as talents were among humans. The flames in Toriel's paw-like hands were vibrant and wispy, bright like fire and yet they didn't seem to burn. As she proceeded to gently shift them all over Sans's body, you stepped closer, observing that the terrible cracks and fractures in his bones were slowly knitting themselves closed, fading away.

They were healing him.

"Whoa..." you breathed.

Papyrus, who was standing just behind the goat-monster as they worked, must have heard you, because he turned, blinking away a few stray tears as he was reminded of your presence. "OH! H-HUMAN, PLEASE, COME IN AND MAKE YOURSELF COMFORTABLE. I APOLOGIZE FOR NOT BEING A MORE HOSPITAL HOST, BUT I AM REALLY NOT MYSELF TONIGHT."

You took a few steps closer, not wanting to appear reluctant. "No, no, that...It's okay, man. I understand."

The blue skinned monster turned to you, and you realized they had an eye-patch over one eye. "Who the hell are you?"

"Language," Toriel murmured, still concentrating on her patient. A motherly voice. Another female monster.

"M-My name is Jocasta Taylor," you stutter, afraid this frilled monster was going to beat the shit out of you. They certainly seemed angry enough to. Their voice was rougher, gravelly almost compared to the little yellow lizard, but still distinctly female. That and she was wearing a fairly revealing tank top that made it more than obvious as to her gender. She had muscles that would have put Arnold Schwarzenegger to shame and made you feel like a shrimp in comparison.

"UNDYNE, SHE IS THE ONE WHO FOUND SANS," Papyus was quick to explain. "DO NOT BE RUDE."

The red-haired monster, Undyne, still didn't look like she trusted you. You couldn't blame her. "Yeah, well, don't skip town, punk," she growled. "I've got a few questions for you once we've got this situation under control."

You nodded hurriedly, pushing back the little voice in your head that reminded you that you had a plane to catch and really had been intending to skip town since dinner time. A quick glance at the clock hanging on the wall above the couch informs you that you've already missed your flight and that it is now nearly eleven-thirty. Pushing all of that aside, you take one more step further into the living room, gazing at Sans from over Toriel's shoulder.

"Will he be alright?" you ask, throat tight and chest heavy.

The yellow lizard - you still don't know her name - is the one to answer. She's still gazing down at the device in her hand, but her voice is kind and nervous as she assures you. "H-He'll be s-sore for a w-while, and h-his HP is d-dangerously low, but with s-some medicine and h-healing, he'll b-be okay."

You nearly collapse with relief.

You all fall into silence, a somber seriousness blanketing the room. The only thing you can hear is Sans's gasping little breaths and the warm hum of Toriel's magic. Healing, it seems, can take a fair amount of time, and your all just standing around watching the process.

When all the visible cracks and fractures are healed, Toriel moves to delicately tug off the skeleton's shorts. Though you notice she folds a corner of the blanket still under him to cover his now bare pelvis, you look away to give them some privacy. You notice that the blush on the yellow lizard's cheeks has increased, and that Undyne has, like you, shifted her gaze elsewhere.

"Oh dear..."

At Toriel's breathy exclamation, you can't help yourself and turn back. Sans's pelvis is well covered, but his hip bone, which you had only caught a glimpse of before, is now clearly visible. It's...In one word, it's a disaster. The fragile looking bones are cracked to the point of splintering, rough little pieces sticking out like might happen if you hacked away at a tree branch with a dull hatchet. Dust powders thickly over the wounds, along with a bright red tint. Not blood, monsters don't do that, but it's definitely there. The way Toriel is staring at it gives you the impression that she doesn't know what it is either.

"Something like that should have killed him," Undyne mutters. She, again like you, had looked back down at Toriel's words, taking in the damage with a grim expression. Your heart sinks at her words, and just looking at Sans's injuries makes you want to cry. "You sure he's still got HP, Al?"

"I-It's l-low, r-really, really, r-really low," the yellow monster stutters. She's tearing up, drops of water leaking beneath her glasses. Al, huh? You suppose that's her name. "B-But he's s-stable...e-enough. He's n-not falling."

Toriel gives a hum of sorrow and moves her hands down to cover the dreadful mess of bone, dust, and red. She's being gentle, you can tell, but even then Sans's breathing hitches in his unconscious state, making you feel all the more like garbage.

You did this to him.

It's your fault he's hurting.

Time passes. Eventually, tired, you settle down sitting on the floor with your back against the living room wall, pulling your knees up under your chin. No one pays any attention to you, all of them, yourself included, focused on the green flames licking against pale white bone. It's nearly midnight when one of Sans's hands, up until then limp and lifeless, twitches, a small little groan escaping through the skeleton's teeth.

Toriel instantly stops her task, the green wisps disappearing. She leans forward, close to Sans's face, and smooths a gentle hand over the front of his skull, almost petting him as Sans's sockets flutter open weakly. It's the first time you've seen him with his eyes open, and you're rather shocked at how drastically different they are from his brother's. While Papyrus's sockets are thin, light-less ovals, Sans's are large, dark, hollow circles, with two tiny little points of light. Like pupils, though they are very dim. Hazy almost.

"hnnn..." Sans huffs out a soft breath, like someone waking after a deep sleep. He seemed to be having a hard time focusing, his healed, twitching arms trying to curl in toward his still trembling body.

"Sans?" Toriel calls gently. She's still soothing her fingers against his brow. "Are you with us, my friend?"

The skeleton locates her face, blinking a few times before before smiling ever so slightly, like even that is tiring. "...h-heya, t." He's barely using his voice, the words more of a whisper, but you can already hear that his voice is lower than Papyrus's, warm and deeper than you'd expect from someone so small.

Toriel's eyes scrunched up as she smiled back down at him in a soothing, encouraging way. "Hello, dear. I am very glad to see you. You gave us all quite a scare."

He blinked, the action slow. "m'sorry..."

"It is alright. Rest for now. We will talk when you wake and are feeling stronger. Do you want your brother to take you up to your room?"

Sans blinked again, his skull turning limply to try and figure out his surroundings. His eyes met yours, and you felt you breath catch in your throat. Those little pinpricks of light were mesmerizing; little flecks of white, glowing crystal in a sea of inky black. If you weren't so embarrassed, you might have even considered them beautiful. He regarded you unsteadily, his gaze reaching out, almost through you, as if he could tell at a glance exactly who and what you were. It was breathtaking...and unnerving. You could feel the confusion in his gaze as he stared, but, apparently, his exhaustion was greater than his curiosity. He struggled to look back up at Toriel, one hand fumbling to press against the paw-hand she still had on his shoulder.

"y-yeah..."

Papyrus instantly moved forward, crouching down to be closer to his brother's level. Sans's dull eye lights brightened a little instantly at the sight of him in a way that tugs at your heart. Papyrus smiled, tears streaming freely down his bony cheeks as he carefully scooped up the other into his arms. With Toriel's help, they both get Sans in Papyrus's hold, re-wrapped in your blanket to preserve Sans's modesty.

"W-Wait!" Al's sudden yelp made everyone in the room jump. She was digging around in the pocket of her dress for something, before you saw her pull out a thin metal band. She unclasped it, opening it up, before approaching Sans and Papyrus. "I-I'm s-sorry, Papyrus," she murmured, not meeting his gaze. "I know y-you didn't want to resort t-to this b-but...it's f-for his own g-good." With that, she snapped the metal band around Sans's visible ankle, the skeleton in question giving a soft whine at the contact, but nothing more. "I-I'm sorry, S-Sans."

"IT'S ALRIGHT," answering for the both of them, apparently. "I UNDERSTAND, DOCTOR ALPHYS."

Oh. Alphys. Not 'Al'. And a doctor. Huh.

You stood up from the floor, moving away from the doorway to let the skeletons pass. As Papyrus carried Sans out, you met the smaller's gaze one more time for another breathtaking moment, and then they were gone. You could hear Papyrus's footsteps above you through the ceiling a moment later.

You took a breath, and turned to face those who were left.

Toriel stood stiffly from where she had been kneeling beside the couch. She looked tired, but satisfied. She held a hand out to the human child, pulling the little one in for a hug. The kid could only wrap their arms around the monster's lower front, head barely making it to Toriel's stomach. Smiling, Toriel patted their head, her crimson eyes finally rising to meet yours.

"Jocasta, you said your name was?" she asked kindly.

You nodded.

"I know it is late, but would you mind staying for a cup of tea? We...We really have a lot of questions to ask you."

"Yeah," Undyne added, still looking suspicious. 

You fiddle with the sleeve of your soaked sweater. "U-Uh, yes, please," you answer. Then add, mostly for Undyne's benefit, "I wouldn't have left without telling you what happened."

Toriel looks relieved. She looks down at the child attached to her front. "Frisk, my child, go and get ready for bed. Try not to wake Sans; I am sure he is already asleep."

Frisk, the kid, runs off as they were told, sending you a smile as they passed and raced up the stairs in the kitchen. Humbly, you waited for Undyne, Toriel, and Alphys to head into the kitchen before following. 

You're offered a seat at the table and you take it, Undyne and Alphys joining you as Toriel goes through the motions of making you all some tea. For the most part, you all sit in silence, each of you with your own thoughts. When the tea is ready, it's delicious smell filling the room, Toriel divides it into five equal cups and sets them on the table. Just as you start blowing on the hot beverage, Papyrus reappears, looking exhausted, but decidedly more calm. The tears of before are gone, and he gives you a grateful smile as he sits down across from you, hands folding around his own cup of brew.

"SANS AND FRISK ARE BOTH ASLEEP," he informs Toriel. "I...HOPE YOU DON'T MIND, BUT I ALLOWED FRISK TO CRAWL IN BED WITH SANS. THEY ARE FEELING RATHER SNUGLY IT SEEMS.

"That is fine," Toriel assures. "I know they will be gentle."

Finally, though to your dread, all eyes turn to you.

"I WOULD LIKE TO THANK YOU AGAIN, HUMAN JOCASTA, FOR SAVING MY BROTHER'S LIFE."

Oooooh, you feel like shit about this.

"I...I didn't do anything, really," you respond guiltily.

"N-Nothing!" Alphys squeaks. "I-If you hadn't f-found h-him, he'd b-be d-dust by now!" She seemed almost reverent in how she looked to you, making your guilt worse.

You decide now's the time for truth. It sucks, and you have no idea when you decided to be any semblance of a moral person, but you just can't take those grateful expressions anymore. Not knowing what you had done. Not realizing that Sans's life wouldn't have been in danger if not for you in the first place.

Swallowing hard, you gather courage from some dark  and dusty hammer-space in your guts. "I...really don't think you should thank me," you murmur. You set down  down your cup of tea, untouched, and stare at the tabletop. "Not until you hear what I have to say."

The mood around you shifted from gratitude to uncertainty.

Papyrus was the one to speak, his tone one of confusion and slight fear. "WHAT IS IT YOU HAVE TO SAY?"

This was it. You hoped dying by magic wasn't too painful.

You were an idiot; of course it was.

Closing your eyes, you forced it all out in one terrible sentence. "It's my fault Sans was hurt in the first place," you admit.

The temperature in the room seemed to dip.

"I...I hit him with my car."

 


	5. The Kindness of Strangers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I, again, borrowed the use of Zeragii's talents. She made a comic strip a little while back, about Undyne accidentally hitting Sans and Sans not losing any HP because it had been an accident. After I started writing this story, I realized I had gotten Sans hit by a car, but that he SURVIVED it. Which...probably posed some questions for a lot of people. So I sent Zeragii a message, asking what she thought of how Sans might survive something like that, and she helped me with a lot of Alphys's explanations about intent and HP in this chapter. Thanks again Zeragii!

"I...I hit him with my car."

You were too...You don't even know what it was you were feeling. Ashamed. Guilty. Self-hatred was definitely playing some part in your swirling thoughts, riding on you for being a failure in pretty much everything. God, you couldn't even run away from home without almost killing an innocent bystander. Whatever rage your words would be met with, you deserved every word of it. The image of that small, broken little body lying in front of your car, his bones cracked and his breathing stinted, seared into your mind every time you closed your eyes. Something in your chest ached at the thought of it, something like your heart, but not quite in the right place. Something deeper; more vital.

You had fixed your gaze to the tabletop, unable to face the disappointed horror in the faces of those who had already shown you so much trust - letting you, a human, into their home and offering you tea. You didn't even bother tasting it; you knew the guilt in your gut would only make it taste like ash in your mouth. You sat there, hunched, awaiting their reaction. After several seconds of devastating silence, it was the yellow lizard monster, Alphys who spoke.

"Y-You...h-hit him with y-your car?" she repeated, sounding frightened and uncertain.

Undyne's growl was a little less hard to ignore. "Why?" she gritted, and without even looking up you knew she was baring those sharp, yellow fangs at you. The low roughness of her voice made you start shaking, feeling the slight rumble of her demand all through you.

"I-I didn't mean to," you gasped, tears already forming in your eyes. You were such a wuss. "I-I would n-never, I-"

A large, furry hand lighted ever so softly on one of the ones you hand fisted on the table, stilling the violent tremors of fear that had taken over you. You gasped again, jolting in terror, but when you looked up to the face of the monster, you saw only kindness and patience.

"Perhaps you should tell us what happened," Toriel hummed soothingly. She ghosted a thumb across your knuckles, sounding more like a mother than yours ever had been. "From the beginning, my child. You are obviously very upset over all of this. No one who had meant Sans any conscious harm would feel so much remorse."

You blink at her dumbly, the action causing a few more tears to trickle down your cheeks. You're fairly certain your mouth is hanging open like a guppy, eyes wide and your brain numb. You slowly turn to take in the others at the table. Undyne still looks pissed, but she isn't lunging for your throat, so you figure that's something in your favor. Alphys looks like she's on the verge of joining you in crying, moisture gathering around the rims of her eyes, the overhanging kitchen lamp glinting off of the un-shed tears and the glass of her spectacles. And Papyrus...Oh, that face. You can see in it all the worry, and confusion, and sadness, and yet they all seem to be set there  _for_ you, not _because_ of you. Even when you, someone he had never met, stormed in tonight with his brother's battered body in your arms, he still had all the concern for you as if you were best friends who had known each other for years.

A love for him instantly bloomed in your chest. Not a romantic or sexual lust that you had felt sometimes toward men you had come across from time to time. No, this was almost brotherly. A protective, desperate kind of love that made you want to cry and hug him to you; to do anything to take away the hurt and fear in his gaze.

Papyrus nodded to you encouragingly, and you realize your gaping at him like an idiot.

You quickly avert your gaze back to the table, leaving your hand where it is with Toriel's enormous mitt blanketing it, and you tell them everything. You tell them about how you were on your way to the airport, how you were planning to move to the States. You talk about, without going into any sort of detail, that you had been driving angry and had a lot on your mind. You tell them how you had the radio blaring, how you could barely see through the rain and the swiping motion of your windshield wipers. And then, throat choking your voice again and again, you relate how suddenly Sans had appeared in front of you. How you had tried so hard to miss him. How your attempts had still proven useless. They all listened in complete silence, taking in your every word. The frantic call to 911. Their recalled dispatch, just because Sans was a monster. The way you had cleared out the back of your van so you could get their injured friend and brother out of the cold rain. How, when you had started to inspect his condition, you realized there was nothing you could do for him. How you found Sans's phone.

You told them everything. Every little detail, every little fear that had bolted through your mind again and again. _Everything_. And when you were finished, the room remained silent as your words hung over you all like a suffocating fog.

"I-I really didn't mean to hurt him," you interject into the quiet, your voice little more than a whisper. "I would never hurt someone on p-purpose, I swear..." You resumed crying soundlessly, still ashamed, and still guilty.

"...HUMAN?"

Oh, god, no, you couldn't face Papyrus after all of that. You hung your head further, tears dripping to the scratched wood of the table. Surprisingly, the monster persisted, his voice lowering in volume in a way you could help listen to.

"Human?"

"Y-Yes?" you sob.

"Can you...Can you look at me?"

You shake your head, pitifully.

A sigh. This time it is Toriel who speaks. "My child, you have nothing to fear from us. We are very grateful to you for bringing Sans home to us. Had any other human happened across him, we may never have known what became of him."

You choke out a bitter, wet laugh. "G-Grateful? I-I don't think you understand." That self-hatred resurfaced, adding an angry edge to your tone. "I-I hit him with m-my car. I h-hurt him. I cracked up his little arms and legs and skull and-" You want to die. You wish the world would just decide it was better off without you and strike you dead. You slump, tired from crying, tired from dealing your emotions; tired of everything. "You should hate me for what I've done..."

A beat, and then something slammed the table hard enough that you jolted upright with wide eyes. You were met with an intense closeup of Undyne's face inches from yours. She smelled a little bit like fish, though thankfully not as strong as it could have been, and her one burning eye pierced into your own. Her fist was still resting on the table where she had brought it down, and you were fairly sure her knuckles were bleeding and the table was slightly dented.

You were going to die.

"Listen here, punk!" Undyne shouted into your face. "I'm not sure I trust you just yet, but let me make one thing really, really clear!" She lifted her free hand, claws visible as she pointed a long finger toward the staircase to your right, a sneer on her face but something less viscous in her gaze; something almost thankful - but that couldn't be right. "That asshole up there got home, hurt or no, because you brought him here. Toriel's right. Not just anyone would have done that. You must have a pretty decent soul to go that much out of your way to help a stranger, let alone a monster. AND! That's not all. You say you hit him with your car?" She paused, and you realized she was waiting for you to respond. 

"U-Um -Y-Yes?"

"Then that settles it." With all the calmness of a saint, Undyne return to sitting in her chair, looking decidedly pleased with herself.

You blink, sitting up again in your own chair where you had hunkered down in horror. The other monsters all look equally pleased. You don't understand. They should hate you. They should be kicking you out of their home at the very least. Weakly, you swallow the bile in your throat and offer a whisper soft, "W-What?"

"HUMAN," Papyrus speaks up, and once again he's back to his normal volume. "I...DO NOT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND A VERY KEY ELEMENT OF YOUR STORY."

"Huh?"

Toriel patted your hand, recapturing your attention. "What he means, dear, is that you say you hit Sans with your car. Even a monster as strong as I would find myself unlikely to survive such a hit. Sans is...he is far weaker in health than he will typically admit. We don't even speak of it with him. The fact that he not only survived, but only retained minimal damage, tells us more about your intent than your words ever could."

"My...intent?" You're confused. You're _beyond_ confused.

"F-For us, a m-monsters' health is m-measured in w-what we c-call HP." Alphys was fidgeting, not quite meeting your gaze. "Some monsters h-have a very h-high HP, like T-Toriel, while others, like S-Sans, have ones that are s-significantly l-lower. If we get h-hurt, that number falls, and i-if we g-get hurt enough that our numbers fall to z-zero...w-well, we die. I-Intent is a type of h-hurt that can be inflicted on our h-health at the hands of o-others. The am-amount of damage is determined b-by how much the i-inflictor wishes to h-harm the v-victim."

She blinked up at you, finally. "Th-The fact that you hit Sans w-with a car, and didn't k-kill him, means that y-your intent, transferred through your v-vehicle, w-wasn't malicious."

"Proving," Undyne finished, "that you didn't mean to hurt him. We believe you, punk."

You felt like you might faint from relief. Tears continued down your cheeks, but this time more from gratefulness than fear or sorrow. Toriel and Papyrus continued to sooth you, and by the time you had finally gotten a hold of yourself it was nearly one-thirty in the morning.

"I-I'm so sorry," you chuckle, accepting a paper towel from Toriel as you brush away the last of your tears. "I guess I'm just a little emotional. I've always been like that."

"THAT IS OKAY, HUMAN JOCASTA," Papyrus beamed. "EMOTIONS CLEARLY SHOWN AND SHARED ONLY SHOW THAT YOUR SOUL IS HEALTHY."

You're not quite sure what he means by your 'soul', but you smile and offer a quiet thank you. "I really should be going now. I have to find a hotel to stay in until I can buy another plane ticket."

"Oh, that is right," Toriel considered. "You were on your way to the airport, did you not say?"

You nod. "It was for an eleven o'clock flight, but, huh, missed that one for sure. Then again, I don't think I should leave town until I know Sans is better."

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO DO THAT."

"But I'd like to," you admit. "If anything, so that I can apologize to Sans's face before I skip the country."

Undyne glanced between you and the clock on the wall. "Damn, you're not going to have much luck finding a room around this neighborhood at this time of night." She frowned. "Why don't you just head back from wherever you came from?"

You give a firm shake of your head. "No. No, I don't think so" You leave it at that. "It's okay. There's a few hostels around here, I'm sure. Maybe one of them have a room for a few nights."

"Oh, my child," Toriel speaks up, looking worried. "By now your car has been noticed, and while we can vouch for any and all monsters in this area, we cannot say the same for anyone else who might be watching. They may not take kindly to the fact you have been in our home. Staying in place such as you describe may not be safe."

What the hell?

She smiled at you, motherly; gentle. "Why do you not stay here with us? I am afraid we have no extra beds, but the couch is free and we have plenty of blankets."

"O-Oh." You're quite honestly stunned. "Um...I mean, are you sure?"

Toriel nods. "It would be no trouble. You may stay with us as long as you wish."

"I don't have any money," you insist. "Not any more than I would have needed to get to the States. There's no way I can pay you."

Undyne growls, but it's a slightly amused, eye-rolling growl. "Oh, come _on_ , punk! Do we look like the kinds of monsters that want you for your money?! I mean, sure, we could use it, we like in a fucking dump after all! We just want to show you our gratitude for helping Sans, so let us return the damn favor!"

Oooookay then.

"If you really feel you must give us something in return," Toriel interjected, giving Undyne a glare for her language, "then perhaps you can babysit Frisk for us. My duties as queen-"

"Queen?!" Oh, shit, you've been sobbing on a royals furniture.

She merely smiles at your stunned shock. "Yes. I am Toriel, Queen of the Underground. Or, well...monsterkind. We no longer live underground." She moved on. "My duties often lead me to many meetings and political outings, all of which the Undyne and Papyrus usually accompany me for, but for which Frisk is still far too young to attend. Would you be willing to watch them for me?"

How can you say no? The kid seemed pretty cool, and while you've never been one to be particularly good with children you figure you own these kind monsters _something_ at least. "Sure."

"S-Sans and I will b-be here, but..." She exchanged a glance with the others. "I s-spend most of m-my time working in the b-basement, and Sans...W-Well, he m-might come and go from h-his room. I-If he f-feels like getting up t-tomorrow after all that h-happened tonight."

You nod in understanding.

Toriel gets up from her chair, her hand gently lighting on your shoulder. "I will go and fetch you some blankets. Papyrus, dear, will you assist Jocasta Taylor in getting situated in the living room?"

"BUT OF COURSE!"

You smile, standing yourself. "I just need to grab a few things from my car. And, um...i-it's just Jocasta. Though I prefer to be called Joe by my friends."

Papyrus's eyes, despite being holes in his expressive skull, seemed to light up with joy. "ARE WE YOUR FRIENDS?!" he squealed, and you wondered how Sans and Frisk, supposedly asleep upstairs, could possible not here him.

You looked around you in that yellow tiled, yellow walled, and yellow furnished kitchen, at all the kind faces being directed toward your own, and all the fear and uncertainty you had carried before fell away. You felt safe, and wanted, and grateful. You'd never been treated with such kindness, not even by your own family. Sure, you had a few good friends, maybe a few on-call boyfriends, but none of them ever game you that warm fuzzy feeling coursing through you now at this moment.

You gave the skeleton a sincere smile. "Yeah," you realized, a little surprised yourself. "Yeah, I think you are."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was another half hour before you were finally ready to crawl into your makeshift little bed. Since you had been leaving home and had packed literally all your belongings, you'd had your toothbrush and some comfortable, dry pajamas to jump into. Toriel had taken your soaked clothes and offered to put them in the dryer overnight. You could hear the deep thump of the machine two rooms over, in a very tight closet-like space where the washer and dryer resided. It was a pleasant sound. Homey. Rhythmic. You'd always liked white noise when falling asleep. That, and it was still raining outside, the heavy pattering audible against the roof. You'd left your car door open when you had run Sans inside, and your were going to have to air the inside of your car out on the next sunny day so your vehicle wouldn't smell like wet rooster - whatever the hell _that_ smelled like.

Papyrus had followed you around like a puppy, seemingly unaffected by the late our and chattering ceaselessly. You learned more about him and the others than you knew about your own family. You learned that Undyne and Alphys were together, something that you genuinely thought was cute. You learned that Frisk was in the process of adopting Frisk, though the paperwork was difficult to deal with, especially with her being a monster and monsterkind still struggling for rights on the surface. You also learned that she was divorced, but that the king, Asgore, was still welcome in their home and visited often. Papyrus mentioned something about someone named Flowery, but he seemed uncomfortable with the topic and moved on quickly. You learned that Sans was the older brother, which actually made you laugh. Sans barely came to your shoulders in height, or so you had reasoned, and Papyrus was a good head and shoulders taller than you. You could hardly wait to see the brothers standing side by side, just to see, what you imagined, must be an adorable difference in size.

Their house, you were told, was actually two houses combined, Toriel owning the parts you had seen and Undyne and Alphys owning the house directly behind it. Sometime since their settlement they had worked together to fill in the gap between the two, building a sort of mud room wherein boots, coats, and numerous boxes were stored. You only got a glance at it, as you waved goodnight to the girls as they departed for the night. Sans and Papyrus, apparently, were living with Toriel and Frisk, the motherly monster unable to turn them away. Papyrus said something about them having nowhere else to go, again not seeming comfortable with the topic and hurriedly moving on.

Finally, teeth brushed and hair dried, you crawled into the warm blankets on the couch that had been provided for you, Papyrus the only monster still awake. He was moving about the living room, turning off the TV and drawing the curtains in a decidedly fussy manner. At last he seemed satisfied that you were all set and comfortable, but he still seemed reluctant to leave. 

"Is there...something you want to talk about?" you prompted gently, as he stood there in the middle of the room, looking restless and fidgety. You were tired, but you couldn't just turn over and pretend he wasn't there.

Papyrus gave a soft whine, like he was trying to make up his mind, before he finally sat down, long, bony legs crisscrossed, on the carpet. "HUMAN JOCASTA-"

"Joe."

"...HUMAN JOE," he corrects himself. Practicing. "HUMAN, JOE, I...I BELIEVE THAT THERE IS ONE MORE THING I SHOULD TELL YOU."

"Oh?" You chuckle. He's told you so much you feel like your brain might explode from all the information. "What's that?"

"IT IS...ABOUT MY BROTHER."

You sober immediately. There's something in his voice that makes you tense, like the tone some people use before they tell you your favorite hamster just died, or they accidentally ate the last ice cream in the 'fridge. "Oh...Sans?" you prompt weakly.

He nods. "YES. YOU SEE, HUMAN, HE...MY BROTHER SANS IS..."

He seemed frustrated that he can't get the words out. You're worried; that doesn't seem like him. He takes a deep breath, refocusing his scattered thoughts. He fixes you with a look so saturated in trust and worry and love, some toward you, some toward his brother, that you're nearly overwhelmed by it all. His words, though...That's what really gets you.

"MY BROTHER IS NOT WELL, RIGHT NOW...HE'S NOT WELL AT _ALL_."


	6. Confront or Evade

_"MY BROTHER IS NOT WELL, RIGHT NOW...HE'S NOT WELL AT ALL."_

The words echo in your head, over and over, and you find you can't get any sleep despite being exhausted. You know giving you insomnia wasn't Papyrus's intent, the tall skeleton having long since left you to go upstairs and sleep, but you can't help obsessing over what he had told you.

Sans was...under a suicide watch, of sorts. Papyrus didn't say as much, but that was certainly what you would call it. Papyrus had mentioned that Sans was prone to nightmares and depression, even back in the Underground, but that since their arrival on the surface, he had grown far worse. He was 'lazy', which sounded a lot more like apathy or nihilism to you. Sans didn't like to do things. He had become quiet. When he did speak, it was clipped or vague. He had begun scratching at his arms, irritated, to the point where Papyrus had begun to get worried over scaring. Living in such close quarters had soon brought Sans's state to the others' attention, and a confrontation on the matter had proven...ill received. Papyrus didn't share just what had happened, but you had a friend once, years ago, who had a sister that attempted suicide, and you could still remember that haunted, heart-crushing look in her eyes as she told you about it. As she recounted how close she had come to losing her sister.

Papyrus had that same look in his eyes.

The skeleton told you that Sans had started...doing things. Unhealthy things- other than the scratching. He had told you how he would disappear for hours, returning home late, and apparently drunk. How his behavior had led to Toriel making a stand and forbidding him to leave, resulting in Sans locking himself in his room. Not eating. Not speaking. Papyrus mentioned Alphys having come up with some sort of device to keep Sans from leaving the house, but that none of them had had the heart to use it. - Though, to your understanding, that decision had been re-evaluated, that same device now latched onto Sans's ankle, as you had seen. - And then, Undyne having finally forced his door open earlier that evening, they had discovered that Sans was missing.

A sort of cold lump settled in your stomach, realizing that the small monster had taken to wandering the streets in the rain, only to be hit by your car. And you couldn't help wondering if he had stepped out in front of you by accident...or on purpose.

So...maybe this wasn't the happy-go-lucky home you thought you'd walked in on. Then again, these monsters obviously cared a lot for Sans. Even Undyne, who you got the impression was a lot more rough and tough outwardly than she was inside, seemed concerned over the shorter brother's welfare. You had never been suicidal, though you probably had more reason to than most, but you figured if you ever were your family wouldn't give half the damn this family was. Hell, you could probably have shut yourself up in your room and starved yourself to death and your mother probably wouldn't have even noticed until your room smelled like rotting flesh.

...Ugh. Okay. That was gross.

Your point was, Sans was obviously well loved. Why then, when he had so many of the things you'd craved for almost all your life, would he become so...careless? So despondent? So cut off from those who were willing to help him? Who _wanted_ to help him.

You didn't know. But as you lay there, snuggled into that worn, old couch and staring with bloodshot eyes into the semi-darkness, you realized one very important thing. You liked these people. They were kind, they were gentle, and they had more love in their hearts than most humans you knew did.

And you weren't about to let Sans throw all of that away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

You weren't sure just when it was that you finally fell asleep, but you knew you must have as your eyes, feeling swollen and puffy, fluttered open to light filtering through the still closed blinds. You groaned, feeling like shit but to awake to try getting back to sleep. Looking at the clock flashing on the VCR under the television, you replenished that groan with a louder one, determining that you had only gotten about three hours sleep.

Oh well. You'd never needed much sleep anyway.

Getting up, back protesting the position you'd fallen asleep in, you stood to your feet. You winced at the carpet, one of those ugly, thick mustard yellow ones left over from the seventies. It looked clean enough, but still, you had always hated the slightly crusty feel of old carpeting beneath your feet. Thankfully, you'd worn socks to bed.

You made your way into the kitchen, again glancing at the clock there as though to double check the time, make sure you hadn't misread.

Nope. It was still only five thirty-six.

Yuck.

You slowly made your way into the bathroom, a facility that Papyrus had quite excitedly informed you that monsters had very little use for. You had brushed your teeth in there last night, but you were still shocked by just how cramped the space was. Sitting on the toilet resulted in your knees pressing against the opposite wall. Even if monsters did need bathrooms to shit or pee or whatever, none of the ones you had met would have fit in the space, not even Alphys. Sans, maybe, if he had the need. You and Frisk were probably the only ones who had ever stepped in and closed the door.

Refreshed, you stepped out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen, only to almost run into the child in question.

"Oh! Um...hello there," you greeted carefully.

The kid considered you, long and closely, as if searching for something, before they gave you a very pleasant smile. In a voice that was quiet and rough, like they used it rarely, they chirped, "I like you."

You blushed. Kids say the darnedest things. "I, uh, like you too. I think. I mean, I don't know you very well, but-" Your were rambling. Idiot, it's just a child! You return the smile like you should have in the first place. "You're Frisk, right?"

"Uh huh."

You shuffle your way further into the kitchen, mindful not to step on their feet. "Well, it's very nice to meet you. In a non-chaotic situation, I mean."

They giggle.

"You the only one up?" you ask, craning your neck to peer into the living room in case someone's in there, but as far as you can tell, you're alone.

"Mom's getting ready for work upstairs. She had a meeting. Papyrus and Undyne are up too. They're over on the side of the house."

Oh. That made sense. You had forgotten that these peoples' homes were two in one. You nod, grateful to not be left to your thoughts longer than necessary. You had too many bad things in life to brood on. "Ah. I see." You pause, uncertain. "Is...Is Sans up yet?" The look they give you is absolutely incredulous. You have to try not to burst out laughing. "H-Huh, well, I guess that's a no."

"Sans never wakes up before eleven at least," Frisk said, grinning now.  "He's a lazybones."

"Huh. Yeah, so I hear."

Frisk's face falls a little, that sad look from last night returning. "He's...also really not feeling well lately. Mom and the others, they try to keep me from knowing, but I understand. Sans has a lot that he thinks about, and it gets to him. Makes him...sad. And scared. Even though he's really good at hiding it."

"Your, uh...really perceptive for a kid, aren't you?" you ask gently.

They nod. "I also know Sans. In a lot of ways, even more than Papyrus does." You're not sure that's possible, but you don't interrupt. "He thinks to much, and tries to feel too little."

Wow. Are you sure this child isn't a professor in college? Because you're pretty positive you took a class in psychology once that was less knowledgeable and way less sensitive to this kind of crap. Frisk could be a therapist. 

"That...sounds like things have been kind of tough."

"He locked himself in his room, for days," Frisk sniffs, wiping their nose on their sleeve. They're not crying, but pretty damn well near to it. There's guilt there too, a kind you're very familiar with. "He wouldn't even let me or Papyrus in."

You can't help it. To hell with your bad children skills, this kid is suffering and shit if your going to let them stand there on the verge of tears while to stand by and watch. Before you can think better of it, you crouch down and pull them into your arms, hugging them with all the firm tenderness you can muster. "Hey...hey...It's okay. It's not your fault. Sometimes...Sometimes people are just sad. Sometimes they need to lock themselves in their room and get their shi-Uh...their junk together. Granted, not long enough to get sick or anything, because that's not okay, but...Maybe he just needs to be reminded that he's loved?"

You trail off, realizing you really have no right to speak on Sans's behalf. You haven't even properly met the guy when he isn't unconscious. You think of those dazzling pin lights in dark sockets looking at you from across the room. Now that your thinking back to it, you can sense the sadness in them. That weird, almost desperate hopelessness that makes life feel like a pit of dark matter, just waiting to swallow you up. You sigh.

"You all seem like really nice people," you conclude. "If anyone's going to be able to pull him out of this - whatever it is - it's you guys."

Frisk squeezes you, then steps back, hands still resting on your shoulders where they had perched. They look into your eyes, for the second time that morning taking you in with a mature, slightly unnerving intensity. "Will you help him too?" they ask, carefully.

Oh. Shit.

"U-Um, I-well-it's-" You sigh again. You force a smile and ruffle the kid's brown hair. "We'll...We'll see, okay? I can't make any promises, but I'll see what I can do."

That seemed good enough for them.

A creak of wood and the thumping of footsteps alerts you to Toriel's arrival as the huge monster descends into the kitchen. "Good morning, Frisk, my child. Oh, and good morning, Jocasta, dear. I hope you slept well?"

You slept like a hippo on an ice barge, but you're not about to tell her that. Your eyes are still puffed up and swollen, so you know whatever you say next is going to be a blatant lie. "I...I slept. Yes. Yes, I slept." You did. Can't call that a lie, you got three whole hours.

"Good, good," she hums, obviously distracted. "Would you like some breakfast before I go? There are plenty of eggs."

You smile, coming to a decision. "Actually, you know what? How about you sit down and I scramble up some eggs for you and everyone. It's the least I can do after you let me spend the night."

Toriel blinked in surprise. "O-Oh. Oh, my dear, you don't have to do that-"

"But I want to," you insist. You're already opening cupboards to find the pots and pans. "You just sit down and let me do this for you. Frisk, will you show me where the frying pan is while I get the eggs?"

They not and start helping. Toriel, still looking a little stunned, sits and watches. Soon enough, Papyrus, Undyne, and Alphys have joined in and you insist on them all sitting while you cook. You've always been a fairly decent chef, nothing fancy but you could hold your own in a contest. You attributed it to all those nights home alone while your mom was out with her friends, with nothing but stupid cooking shows for company.

Soon you're setting out a meal fit for royalty - which, ironically Toriel is - and they're all telling you how good it is. You're actually pretty pleased with yourself, and the praise feels...It feels nice. Not to be hounded and nagged for everything you do wrong feels nice. Being encouraged and not put down feels great. Hell, this is the happiest morning you've had since your father disappeared.

The kitchen has become a lively, cheery, close-knit event, with everyone talking at once and sunlight streaming through the very small window over the sink. You're all having such a generally loud and good time, that you completely miss the creak of someone descending the steps until Frisk, who had been giggling and trying not to choke on their breakfast, suddenly went silent. Papyrus soon followed, both his and the child's gaze fixed on something over your shoulder. Alphys and Toriel fall quiet, with Undyne guffawing a few more moments before she too suddenly freezes, looking incredibly uncomfortable. 

You already know what turning around will reveal. There's no one else in the house, that you know of, besides those sitting at the table and...

Gathering your courage, you turn.

If you had thought you looked like you had survived a rough night, Sans looked about ten times worse. Even from where he was standing, two steps up from the kitchen's yellow tiles and one hand braced against the wall for balance, you can see him shaking. Not a lot, not like yesterday, but still enough to be visible. He's looking right at you, eye lights dim and blown maybe a little too wide. He's dressed in clothes other than what you had found him in, which made sense. Papyrus must have dried him off and dressed him before tucking Sans into bed. He's got a black t-shirt on that's a little too big, the hem almost surpassing his knees and the neckline trying to slip off his shoulder. The cracks - thank god - are gone, thanks to Toriel's healing, but in the morning light you can just make out the slightest discoloration, like scars that will surely fade with time.

You don't know why, but you stand up, moving a few steps back as though to separate yourself from his family. There's something in his expression that wasn't there the night before. Last night he had been hazed and, to be honest, kind of punchy. Maybe healing magic felt good and made you sort of drunkish, you don't know. But right now...Right now you see confusion, protective uncertainty, maybe a hint of anger, and something that, however well hidden it may be, was definitely fear.

He follows you with his eyes, without saying anything. You could hear a pin drop in the kitchen it's so quiet. Finally, you work up the nerve to speak.

"Hello, Sans."

The only reaction you receive is a slight widening of his sockets.

Papyrus has begun to fidget. "U-UM, SANS-?

"take it off."

You blink, confused. At first you think he's talking to you, but when Alphys starts stuttering like a steam train on fumes you realize he's addressing her. Though he's still looking at you. Still staring a hole through your face.

"I-I c-can't d-do that, S-Sans."

"alphys, take this off. now." He sounds more angry now. More forceful, like there's a threat or warning behind his words.

Undyne gives a growl. "Don't talk to her like that, bone boy. 'Less you wanna be needing more green magic."

That...was definitely a threat.

Sans's gaze finally shifts. He looks agitated, and as he takes the final two steps to the kitchen it finally dawns on you what the hell he's talking about. Around his ankle is that metal band that Alphys clasped around his leg last night. It's blinking red and green, little lights that you hadn't even noticed before now. The anklet certainly isn't tight by any means, but there's definitely no way it's coming off without a key or something to unhook it.

"i..." The thinly veiled anger has melted into something a little more desperate. "i won't leave," he says weakly, appealing to those still standing at the table. "i won't leave again."

They all look so guilty, you know you're missing something important. Whatever that metal band is, it carries more weight or meaning than your gathering from this display. Undyne, as your beginning to find, is a little less sensitive and hisses out a rather harsh:

"Well, now you _can't_ leave. Problem solved."

Tense silence fills the room again, Sans staring back at his family and you can't help but feel the metaphorical chasm between them. You can feel their desperation to help him, and, beneath a very well-built wall of...something, Sans is crying out for help.

This is more the atmosphere you're familiar with. You can tell Sans is just trying to deal with whatever is going on in his head, which, from what you've heard, is probably a lot. He leaves home in a funk, maybe not suicidal but you can't say that for sure. Suddenly he's home again, the next morning, probably feeling like shit and with m. Who _wouldn't_ be scared? Who _wouldn't_ be pissed? You feel like this is a conversation they should all be having in private, then again, no one seems to be saying anything either.

No one moves.

No one acts.

No one does anything.

.

.

.

So you do.

Grabbing a plate noisily from a stack on the counter, you scrape what's left of the eggs onto it, grab the ketchup bottle and practically smother it, and then step forward with purpose, plate in hand. Sans's gaze snaps back to you as you approach like he forgot you were even there, taking a few stumbling steps backward as though he's afraid of you. Not wimpy-scared, but cautious, like he expects you to have a knife hidden behind your back.

You were right. He barely comes to your shoulders in height, forcing him to look up at you with those wide sockets and now very constricted pins of light. You pretend to be unfazed, holding the plate out to him so that the edge is just touching his chest. He glances down at it, before looking back up at you questioningly.

"Hi," you announce, loud and surprisingly sarcastic. "I'm Joe. The girl who totally ran you over with my car last night."

Not exactly subtle, but you can't stand this tension anymore. You don't know what kind of personality Sans is. From Papyrus's description, before he was feeling so out of sorts, he was a funny, prankster kind of guy, the kinds you typically thought of as immature back in grade school. But, hell, you'd take immature over whatever the fuck was going on here. Those sad faces - uh huh; those had to go. Sans might be hurting, but he had no right to take things out on the others either. 

You were going to help this dude.

You were going to help this family.

Even if it took forever. Because heck if you had ever had someone, family or otherwise to give a damn about. It was like every lacking of love-based experience you'd had only proved to make you all the more eager to try.

Sans blinks, the tension in the room growing as the others watch. He seemed to take you in again, and then consider how he was acting, and what you had said. You saw some of that tension forced out of his stance, and something like relief take its place. Like he was glad you had snapped him out of his odd mood; and, for the first time that morning, you saw the real Sans shine through. His smile grew wide, and a twinkle lit his eye lights a little brighter. And then, to your utter relief, he chuckles. That chuckle turns into a fairly genuine laugh, so unexpected and sincere that the others can't help joining in, if not a little uncertainly. Sans looks better like that, all smile instead of doom and gloom on legs. Whatever funk he woke up in, he's recovered, the band on his leg forgotten as he reaches up and gently takes the plate from your hand. You still sense the others feeling uneasy, and you know whatever almost went down is far from over, but right now Sans needs a distraction, not a confrontation. That's something you can understand.

"heh, well, i'm sans. sans the bony speed bump."  He gives you a wink and nods down at his food drowned in red. "nice to finally _ketchup_."

 

 

Oh.

My.

God.

 


	7. Reflex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this ones even shorter than usual. Tired today.

GOD.

You had seen some pretty tight masks in your day, but when it came to pretending nothing was wrong, Sans was a pro. He sat down at the table and ate with the rest of you like he hadn't just been freaking out over the metal band on his leg. He joked and made so many puns your side hurt from laughing. It wasn't so much that his sense of word play was all that funny, though sometimes it was, but the reactions his attempts drew from the others make you snort and snuffle into your scrambled eggs on multiple occasions.

Sans was very open to talking about what happened last night, his memory, understandably, missing a sizable chunk. He joked about it the whole time, much to Toriel and Papyrus's disappointment, cheerfully thanking you for not ' _car_ -ting' him away and selling him to a circus. By the uncomfortable glances exchanged between the others at that statement, you wondered if that was something that was known to happen. It wasn't too far fetched. You could easily see some crummy street dealer getting his hands on some poor, helpless monster, dragging them off and selling them someplace where they could be displayed as a freak show attraction. The very thought made you sick. Wherein, the day before, you hadn't really thought anything about monsters, good or ill in regards to their existence or struggle to survive in society, you now felt a very strong connection. These monsters...their kindness and charm had swayed you.

For the first time in years - maybe your whole life - you where picking sides.

You all finished breakfast fairly quickly, Toriel standing and declaring that she, Papyrus, and Undyne needed to leave for yet another meeting. To your surprise, you learned that Papyrus was some sort of guard, and unsurprisingly, that Undyne was a captain. You could see that. Though, from what you have seen of Papyrus, he didn't seem quite like soldier material. He was too kind and friendly. You doubted he could hurt a fly and survive the guilt.

You helped Frisk rinse the dishes while Sans finished his eggs. You had your back to him, but you could feel him watching you. You ignored it, instead resorting to fooling around with Frisk by flicking water at them and occasionally blowing suds. The giggled and returned the favor. You were both fairly wet now.

The others were all in the process of leaving the house, Toriel fussing about and giving you instructions left and right You assured her that you had babysat before and could surely find everything you needed, and if you couldn't, Frisk was more than old enough to give you a hand. Alphys reminded you that she would be down in the basement if you needed her. 

So, it was going to be just you and Frisk and...

See, that was the thing.

If Sans was so much of a danger to himself, if he was a danger to himself, why the hell was everyone so fine and cool with leaving him alone? You could see, out of the corner of your eyes as you took Sans's now empty plate, that Undyne, Alphys, Papyrus, and Toriel were talking in the living room. That made you feel a little better, because there was no way that wasn't a 'let's talk about the guy we care about in the other room' kind of gathering. You could hear their whispering, though you didn't catch any words, but the looks of concern that kept being sent in Sans's direction told you enough. Sans...he wasn't stupid. He was still sitting at the table, talking with Frisk now, but you could tell he was more than aware of what was going on in the next room. You marveled at how easily he pretended to not notice or care.

Another few moments and Toriel, Undyne, and Papyrus are shuffling out the door, Toriel having to squeeze through that super thin hallway just to leave. They don't have a car, so you figure wherever they're going isn't too far away. Or, at least, you hope so. Alphys stutters out some instructions on how to find her in the basement and give you permission to watch any of her somewhat impressive anime collection in the living room. She then disappears, leaving you alone with your charge and a widely grinning Sans. The minute it's just the three of you, Sans stands up. You can't help but notice what you hadn't earlier, that his balance is shaky. When he steps away from the table, you realize he's limping slightly.

"well, thanks for the meal, it was _egg_ -cellent." He starts waddling toward the dark stairs beside the 'fridge and you feel a bit of panic take you. "but i think i'll go take a na-"

"Wait."

The word seemed to explode from your lungs before you can stop it, and Sans freezes. He's stiffened up again, a little, tense and rigid like he had been when he first came downstairs. He's still smiling, but it's more forced. You feel slightly intimidated, but you've dealt with worse from your own mother. This was something you could and were willing to press, even if he didn't want you to.

"...yeah?"

"Stay," you ask. You look down at Frisk. They're looking up at you with something akin to wonder, surprise, and nervousness. Like no one had ever tried keeping Sans from...whatever he did in his room up there. "Frisk and I were thinking of playing a board game. Clue's fun. Or Mouse Trap." You try not to sound too imploring.

Sans is staring up at you, those tremors from early much less noticeable, but still there. He studies your expression before giving a huff of amusement, one that actually pisses you off a little. "heh. you're here to babysit the kid, not me, lady. just because you ran me over with your car doesn't mean i'm your responsibility. i can take care of myself."

Okay. _Now_ , you're pissed.

You take a few brisk steps forward, and again he stumbles back a little, that fear glimmering deep in his eyes, carefully smothered by the carefree smile he's still trying to keep in place. You know you really don't have a right to be taking him under your wing like this, but you've always been one of those suckers to feel sorry for those struggling through things. And Sans was struggling. He was struggling a lot.

"Oh?" you say, looking over him. He's broken into a sweat. "You may not be my responsibility, I'll grant you that, but I highly doubt you can take care of yourself." To emphasis your point, and you know it's a low blow, you press the toe of your socked foot against the metal band on his ankle. "Or am I reading this situation incorrectly?" you say sweetly.

Sans jerks back another step, smile gone. There's a crackle of energy in the air, soft and tingly, and you recognize it as heavily magical. Like when Toriel was healing Sans last night. It's funny, all that fear before about being killed by a monster and now you don't feel the least bit afraid, even when it's obvious that Sans feels agitated and defensive. Nothing manifests, not so much as a wisp, but you can see Frisk fidgeting nervously by the table, gaze shifting between the two of you with uncertainty.

You let something softer and more gentle slip into your voice. "Sans. I do feel responsible for what I did to you. It's going to be a long time before I can forgive myself and not feel like an ass every time I remember what happened. But this..." You gesture to the stairs. "I'm not trying to make myself feel better. Or, well, maybe I am a little, I don't know. But I do know that locking yourself up in a room when you don't want to deal with things is a bad idea. Nothing will ever get fixed, and nothing will ever get better if you don't try."

"try," Sans repeats, and that's a voice that sounds bitterly mocking. A hard edge filtered into Sans's expression. The smile was back, but it was far from amused. " _you don't know me_ ," he nearly growled. He moved to push past you and, instinctively, you reached out and grabbed his arm to stop him.

Bad idea.

Pain shot up your arm and you gasped, falling to your knees with a bang. You stared down at your hand in horror, at the blood that was now dripping down from a terrible would in your hand. A dagger, that had a distinctly bony aspect to it, had been shoved right up through your palm. You stared at it a moment, mouth open wide and eyes filling with tears, and then you inhaled sharply, a scream raging in your throat about to be released.

Bony hands clasped over your mouth, keeping you from doing so. It wasn't harsh or cruel, but there was pressure. You looked up, vision blurry, to Sans knelt in front of you, his shaking hands reaching up to keep you from screaming. His expression was one of desperation, regret, and panic. He was speaking, in a breathless, whimpering montage, but you couldn't make out any of the words over the ringing in your head. You could feel a smaller set of hands touching your back, and you're mind supplied 'Frisk', in a dizzy, haphazard sort of way. You found yourself laughing, or maybe you were sobbing, against the monster's cold palms, realizing that Toriel and the others hadn't even been gone more than ten minutes and here you were getting stabbed.

You looked back down at your hand, mildly surprised to find that the bone dagger was gone somehow, leaving only a gaping wound through which you could see the god-damn floor. Another odd noise left you, a whimper sort of choke, before you inhaled sharply again as Sans removed his hands from your mouth and instead wrapped them around your injured hand. It hurt, and you think you cry out, though maybe that's in your head, and then you feel something numbing spread through you hand and arm, taking away some of the pain. Consciousness now a little sharper, you glance down again to find that Sans's hands are glowing green, just as Toriel's had. Though, you note, it's significantly weaker a stream of magic, petering out every so often like Sans was having trouble keeping it up. You feel weird, the pain fading but your mind getting progressively loopy. You find yourself staring down at the drops of blood on the floor, mesmerized by just how ugly a color it looks against the yellow tiles of the kitchen. At some point, the healing magic flickers out. You don't notice, at least not right away. You stare down at the blood for a small eternity, until your brain starts to clear and your back starts to ache from your strained sitting position.

Groaning, you sit up and bring your hand up to your face. The hole is gone, filled in like nothing had even happened. You wiggle your fingers, scrunch them up into a fist and then release them. They work just fine. There's a slight sore aching in your arm, but the agony of before is gone. The only evidence of your being hurt is the blood pooled in quarter-sized puddle between your knees.

"i-i'm sorry..."

You look up, finding that Sans is still sitting in front of you. He's hunched into himself, small and vulnerable, and the first thing that comes to your mind is 'shit, this poor guy is an emotional roller coaster'. You reach forward to touch him, to comfort him because he's obviously upset, but then you think better of it. Your hands fold over your lap, your spine stretching as you straighten a little more. You glance to your left, finding that Frisk is still there. Their watching with worry on their faces, but they're not interfering.

You turn back around to look at Sans.

"I, uh..." You honestly don't know what to say. The dude _attacked_ you - you don't know how or why - but one thing is very blatantly obvious; and that's that Sans hadn't meant to. He's shaking again, hard; so hard you can here his bones rattling against the floor and beneath his clothes. There's fear and remorse there. Deep remorse. "You...want to reconsider?" you chirp, cheerfully. "I mean, I've never played Clue, so it'll probably be an easy win."

He looks shell-shocked. He blinks up at you with wide sockets that are quickly gather moisture, and suddenly he's curled over so far his forehead is touching the floor, his arms wrapped around his middle like he's going to be sick. You don't think skeletons  _can_ get sick, but you shift back a little just in case. Frisk scoots forward the minute he caves, snaking their little arms around him and rocking slightly as Sans, his voice muffled against the floor, strings together a long speech on incomprehensible babble. Frisk hushes and soothes him, and your stomach tightens when you realize they've done this before; held him when he cried and looked so lost.

Frisk looks up at you, eyes full of tears, and mouths 'help him', and that's all it takes.

You swoop forward and bring both of them into a hug, Sans completely compliant like he hopes you'll just snap his spine and end his misery. You do no such thing. This is a being who needs help. This breakdown is just one more step to healing, and, while you wish you didn't have to get stabbed to bring this into the light, you're happy you've arrived. Sans sobs into the front of your shirt, totally grossing it up, but you don't care. You're pretty sure he's apologizing over and over, not offering any excuses, just genuinely horrified by what he did to you. His shaking vibrates all through you, and you hold him tight to try and keep him from shaking himself apart.

This is the last straw.

You're not going to the States until this is resolved. Even if you have to live in a tree nearby. You're going to help him, no matter how many daggers, or words, or bad attitudes he throws at you. When Toriel and the others get home, you're going to talk to them about this. You're going to get to the bottom of what the hell has been happening in this household that Sans could be allowed to get this bad. It might take a while to reach him - he'd fallen so far - but you could do it.

You've always had a fair amount of PATIENCE.


	8. Calming Things Down

You've always had a fair amount of patience.

That...wasn't always necessarily a good thing. Patience can sometimes be interchangeable with things like tolerance and being thought of as a pushover. It was patience that had led to twenty-seven years of you tolerating your mother's shit. Her unkind words, her looks of disgust, the way she would always talk down to you like you weren't worth the air you breathed. Tolerance had led to you being the one everyone in the family used as the scapegoat. You were the punching bag for every foul mood, the 'yell-at-her-she-doesn't-mind' that everyone took advantage of, and didn't give a crap about how their words wounded you. You knew how to take emotional pain. You allowed yourself to be pushed around because, honestly, what was the point in fighting? Did it really matter?

Of course it had.

But still.

You hadn't done anything about it.

At least not until the other night, when you had gathered up your belongings and snuck out of your house with a plane ticket charged to your credit card. You had never felt so free, finally taking a stand and deciding that no, you were not going to just stand there and take it anymore. You were going to go out, live your own life, without constantly cringing beneath your family's shadow. It was like a breath of fresh air. A new step in a direction you had never even considered until that moment. Sure, you had run over a poor, unsuspecting monster about twenty minutes later, but maybe that had ended up being the best thing that could have happened, to either of you.

You were introduced to a whole new aspect of your patience. An aspect that was strong, not weak; dominant, not submissive. It made you feel like someone important, because god knew no one else was going to do what you had decided to do, and while you were still scared shit-less, you weren't backing down and it felt so _good_.

It took patience to kneel on the kitchen floor of a stranger's house, waiting for a skeleton clinging to your shirt to stop crying.

It took patience to wait for him to stop flinching every time you moved to try and comfort him, like he expected you to hurt him.

It took patience to carefully guide him back to his feet when he had finally calmed down enough to stand without his legs buckling.

Frisk watched the two of you, their hands never leaving Sans as though they were some sort of tether they knew he couldn't survive without. Sans didn't flinch at their touch, and you tried not to be hurt by the fact that he would shy away from you specifically. Then again, he might be afraid you would retaliate somehow, return the harm he had done to you by returning it in kind. You weren't that kind of person, but Sans didn't know that. All he knew was that he had shoved a magic bone-dagger through your hand and gotten blood all over Toriel's kitchen. He was still staring down at it, at the little red blotches that had gotten smudged against the tiles sometime during your little hugging session. Frisk, interestingly enough, seemed very adamant about _not_ looking at it. Maybe the kid had a fear of blood?

You helped Sans into the living room, sitting him down on the old, worn couch and grabbed the throw blanket from it's back, draping it around his shoulders as he continued to shiver. He refused to meet your gaze, eyes still locked on the kitchen through the living room door like he was still mesmerized by your blood on the ground. A little creepy, you had to admit, but you decided to leave him be. Frisk crawled up onto the furniture with him, sitting as close to his side as humanly possible, one small hand slipping into his far limper one, stroking a thumb over his knuckles in a soothing motion. They glanced back up at you as you stood there, not really sure what you were waiting for. Frisk gave a small nod, permission you supposed, and reassurance that Sans would be alright with them until you returned. Returned from where remained a mystery until you once again found yourself kneeling on the kitchen floor, a wet paper towel in hand as your mopped up the blood.

You wanted to speak with Toriel and the others about Sans. You had so many questions and concerns. Like, why was he like this? How long had he been breaking down? Had he broken down that bad before? Had he ever hurt anyone else? You already knew he had hurt himself, at least on a small scale. While you had hugged him, you had seen the healing scratches on his arms. They looked strange on bone, but they stood out painfully well regardless. Had they tried anything to help him? Had they tried getting him professional help? And why, in the ever loving hell, had they left him home alone unsupervised?! Sure, you were here this time, but what had they been doing in the past? Alphys was downstairs in the basement doing god knew what. Would Frisk have been left alone to deal with Sans by themself? What kind of fucked up situation _was_ this?!

Oh yeah. You and the others were going to have a _loooong_ talk.

You finished cleaning up the mess and threw the now stained paper towel into the trash, making sure to shove it down deep so as not to scare anyone if they saw it before you had a chance to explain what happened.

When you returned to the living room you found that Sans had settled further back into the cushions, his legs pulled up to his chest and his eyes fixed quite doggedly on the floor. That was fine. He didn't have to talk right now if he didn't want to. You weren't innocent in this mess either; you were the one who had scared him or whatever. The way he had reacted after wounding you proved he hadn't intended to stab you, meaning that the attack had been more reflex than anything else.

Frisk had cuddled further around the skeleton, arms wound gently around his middle through the tangle of bony knees and trembling bony hands. They looked up at you again, smiling weakly. They nodded over to your right, to the corner of the living room, and you looked and saw the rather impressive shelving unit filled with DVD cases. Most of which, you remembered, Alphys had said were anime. 

You had never been much into Japanese or Chinses art - you could barely tell the difference - and hadn't seen any anime since that movie Spirited Away, which had honestly scared you witless when you were a kid. But now wasn't the time for getting picky. It was obvious that playing board games was out of the picture as far as your plans for the day were concerned, so maybe sitting down and watching something was a better choice. It would give Sans a chance to come out of his funk without being pressured, left to his own until he felt he could deal with the situation without mentally checking out.

You searched the shelves for something to watch, choosing a disc that you couldn't read the name of, but that looked quite colorful and light-hearted. A quick check to the back of the case confirmed it was rated something safe for children and then you turned on the TV and popped the disc in.

It ended up being a pretty long movie. You actually ended up liking it, and found out there was a sequel. When it ended, and you put it back on the shelving, you found Alphys owned the second movie as well, and, seeing as Frisk was asleep and Sans was still looking a bit distant, you popped that one in too.

You were about halfway through it when you heard the creak of a door and the sound of blunt claws on tile. At first, you were confused. Toriel and the others had said they wouldn't be back until dinner, and it was only just after lunch. A flash of yellow and the glint of glasses made you relax. It was just Alphys.

A small flare of anger filled you. No, maybe not anger, but certainly annoyance. Here you were, trying to keep Sans together after being STABBED, and Alphys was screwing around in the kitchen looking for something to munch. You glanced over at Sans and found he had fallen asleep, his skull tipped to the side against Frisk's, the two leaning on each other as they surrendered to what you could only imagine was exhaustion. You wanted to join them, but instead you carefully eased yourself off of the couch and into the kitchen.

Alphys was in the process of heating up a Ramen Noodle Cup in the microwave, her blunt claws tapping nervously on the counter. Your sudden appearance caused her to startle badly.

"O-Oh! J-J-Joe, I'm s-sorry, I forgot y-you were-"

You held up a hand, stopping her stuttering. "No, no, it's okay. I shouldn't have stuck up on you like that." You watch as the microwave beeps and she takes out her meal. The noodles smell really good, and you realize you're pretty damn hungry. "You, uh...got any more of those?"

Alphys smiles shakily and opens a cabinet under the counter. She hands you a chicken noodle one, your favorite, and then resumes working at getting her own lunch finished. As you start putting a little water into the dried noodles, you gather the courage to speak your mind.

"Hey, um...Alphys?"

"Y-Yes?"

You bite your lip, realizing that the best way to deal with this is to just be honest. "Sans...had some kind of...fit? We had some drama up here and I was wondering-"

"I know."

Your mouth drops open in stunned shock at her perfectly clear statement. Even then, you have to here it again. _"What?"_

"I-I said, I k-know." Alphys points to the ceiling, the corner where the walls meet the sheetrock paneling. There's something there, something small and barely visible in the shadows, but you recognize it even before Alphys starts explaining. "Th-There are cameras, a-all through the h-house. It's a s-security precaution, t-to-"

"You mean to tell me you _saw_ what happened and didn't come up to help?!" you fairly roar. You've never been so angry. You don't think you've ever had the nerve to stand up to anyone, never mind shout at them. You can just imagine Alphys, down in her basement, watching on some fucking monitor while Sans drives a weapon through your hand and then breaks down like a veteran with fucking PTSD. You don't care what Undyne does to you for yelling at her fucking girlfriend, but this is something you can't just let go. Not anymore. "The _hell_ is _wrong_ with you?!"

Alphys has gone several shades of yellow paler, shaking all over as she backs away from your wrath and holds up her hands either as some frail sense of protection or to calm you down. "W-Wait, J-Joe, I c-can explain-!"

"You fucking better!"

She has the gall to shush you, peering around your body into the living room like she's afraid Sans is listening in. You almost hope he is. "Shhh, s-shhhh! I-I'll explain, j-just, p-please...p-please..." She takes a few deep breaths and some part of you feels a little bad for almost giving her a panic attack. She gains control of herself, and you're a little less close to the boiling point, when she speaks again. "C-Can you p-please come w-with me down into th-the basement? It...I-It will be easier t-to just s-show you."

You're still pissed as all hell, but you agree. The two of you leave your noodle cups where they are and you follow Alphys into the hallway connector between the two halves of the combined house, though not before doing a quick check in on Sans and Frisk. Both still look sound asleep. You're led into Undyne and Alphys part of the house, which is less cramped and far more colorful. The connector joins right into a blue walled, blue carpeted living room that is absolutely swimming in Japanese memorabilia. There's even a katana sword hanging on the wall behind the brown leather couch - which is a disgusting color by the way and seriously clashes with the pleasant blue of everything else. Alphys instantly takes a left and you find yourself faced with an ugly wooden door with big black hinges. It has a high-tech looking access panel attached to the front of it, which looks absolutely ridiculous compared to the rest of it. Alphys types something and access is granted. She opens the door and, now feeling a little out of your league, you follow. You both make your way down a typical basement staircase, but as soon as your view of the interior is obtained you freeze, your mouth falling upon like a holiday nutcracker.

You'd always loved sci-fi movies, shows and books, but this was something right out of a science fiction film. Alphys turned and gave you a shaky smile at your reaction.

"W-Welcome to, uh...m-my lab!"


	9. Watchful Eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies, I went away on a trip for a several days and I just got back. Was really worn out, but I really wanted to get another chapter out for you guys. Thank you, to all of you, for your bookmarks, and kudos, and comments; I never realized this story was going to gain such a following. Sorry I haven't really answered any of your comments, I will get to them eventually.

"W-Welcome to, uh...m-my lab!"

"The _hell?_ Is _this?_ "

You probably looked like a fish, standing there with your mouth wide open, but you couldn't help yourself. The basement was a veritable melting pot of high tech machinery and test tubes. As though someone had taken James Bond and Doctor Jackal/Hyde and rolled them into one. Computers and monitors of all sorts lined one long desk to the left, like you had seen in spy movies when some poor sap had been left to monitor the security cameras somewhere instead of joining in on the real action. One each monitor you could see a few depicted scenes you recognized: the blue room you have just walked through, and the living room and the kitchen of the house next door. The other monitors showed other rooms you hadn't seen before, but you supposed they were others from within the monsters' residence. You walked dazedly down the last few steps of the basement stairs, your gaze focusing on the view of the living room, where Sans and Frisk could be seen curled up and asleep on the couch, exactly as you had left them.

The rest of the room was a little more foreign. Opposite the wall of monitors and their desk were a few tables. On those tables were so many beakers and science equipment it looked like a child's science fair project had blown up, because it was so chaotic and messy you could have sworn someone had trashed the place. 

Your feet finally met with the sold cement flooring, the smooth texture felt through your thin socks. "What... _is_ all of this?"

Alphys smiled shakily, twisting the life out of her hands in a fit of nerves. "I-I'm...I _w-was_ the Royal S-Scientist in the underground," she explained. "I-It was m-my job to explore p-possibilities for b-breaking the barrier, or i-inventing things t-to better m-monster lives. When w-we moved t-to the s-surface, m-my job was..." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Th-That's not important. Y-You wanted to know wh-why I d-didn't h-help you with S-Sans...?"

The awe of your surroundings morphed right back into the rage you had momentarily forgotten. You turned your narrowed eyes back to the yellow lizard, feeling your emotions pool back into your mind. "He _stabbed_ me," you growled. "He stabbed me, and had some sort of fucking attack, and you left me, a stranger, and a fucking _kid_ , to take care of the situation alone. You _better_ fucking have a good explanation for _that_."

Alphys flinched, and you almost felt bad. _Almost._

"S-Sans...h-hasn't been well l-lately."

You rolled your eyes, way past just being pissed. "No?" you snapped sarcastically. "Really?"

Alphys, to her credit, continued, though her stuttering and fidgeting increased. 

"I-It started about a m-month a-ago. H-He started...a-acting really...off. Papyrus said his n-nightmares i-increased. That h-he wasn't s-sleeping right, i-if at all. He started s-skipping meals...T-Toriel f-found s-scratches on his a-arms one day while he was n-napping. They weren't d-deep or anything, b-but...the implications are...d-disturbing."

You nodded slowly, still looking angry, but the fire in your belly was calming a little. It was hard staying mad at someone you looked scared out of their shit. "Papyrus already told me that," you murmured grumpily. "He said you guys tried 'confronting' him on the issue."

Alphys winced, and you were pretty sure that was an expression of guilt. "I-It was a d-disaster. U-Undyne though w-we should ask Sans outright w-what was bothering him. We all a-agreed, because we c-care about him and seeing him s-suffer like that was...h-hard. T-Toriel tried asking him, b-but she's too gentle, S-Sans managed to change the conversation b-before any of us knew what happened. H-He's very...g-good at that. W-We left it for a few m-more days, b-but Sans only seemed to get worse." She sighed, a hand coming up to remove her glasses, her expression tired. "U-Undyne...thought m-maybe it was time to b-be a little more forceful. We, u-uh...c-cornered Sans...i-in a way. T-Tricked him. Usually h-he's not so gullible, b-but..."

"What happened?" you pressed, your eyes automatically checking on Sans's sleeping form in the monitor. Still there. Still asleep.

Alphys sighed again, a tremor in her voice. "I-I asked him t-to...h-help me down h-here, in my lab. Sans used t-to love science, and h-he's really smart, s-so the request wasn't all that u-unusual. I h-had Undyne waiting in the sh-shadows. She, u-um...g-grabbed h-him? -and w-we...I-It was for h-his own g-good! B-but..." She pointed to the corner, where a table you hadn't noticed yet caught your attention. It had leather straps on it, like something right out of a Frankenstein movie, and you felt something cold settle in your stomach. "I-I just wanted t-to examine h-him. To m-make sure he w-wasn't s-suffering from s-some sort of s-sickness or w-worse! B-But, u-um! H-He didn't take t-to being t-tied down t-too well."

You could imagine.

"H-He fought...p-pretty hard." Sadness returned to Alphys eyes as she swept them over those crowded tables. "H-He wrecked a lot of m-my equipment. W-We let him go i-immediately, of course, and he...disappeared up i-into his r-room." She looked pained. "W-We didn't see h-him for days...He wouldn't e-even let Papyrus o-or Frisk inside t-to sooth him. Undyne and I, w-we both tried a-apologizing through the door. W-We had no right to t-try and restrain h-him that way, w-we had just all been s-so worried, but...h-he didn't answer."

"And by the time Undyne finally broke down the door to check on him, he had already gone. That was yesterday, when I hit him with my car."

Alphys nodded, miserable.

You gave a groaning sigh and slowly lowered yourself into the computer chair that luckily lay within your reach. You put your head in your hands, letting the other's words sink in. "So, let me get this straight. Sans started acting all weird, and you guys started getting worried. When he didn't answer questions, you decided to strap him to a fucking torture table?!"

"H-He wouldn't h-have been h-hurt!" Alphys defended, tears in her eyes. "H-He wouldn't h-have been h-hurt, we w-would n-never-!"

"Did he _know_ that?!" you shot back. "Did he _know_ you wouldn't hurt him? Because listen, Alphys, I may not be a damn royal scientist or whatever, but between what happened yesterday and today, I have two very important observations to make. One, that little guy up there is dealing with some really tough shit. I can see it behind that fake smile of his as plain as the nose on your face. I've worn enough fake smiles like that myself to spot someone else doing it a mile away. And two!" You took a deep breath. "The way he reacted to me touching him, _isn't normal_. Everyday situations and people don't act like that. He thought I was going to fucking _hurt him_ , and he reacted accordingly. I only met him _yesterday_ and I can see it! Call it trauma, call it fucking ptsd, but I'll tell you this: tying him down to a table against his will was _not the thing to do_. You're his family, damn it! He _trusted_ you! He _loves_ you! I can see that, and I've only seen the guy awake and walking on his own for barely three hours! His phone is full of pictures of you guys. He seems kind, and sweet, and gentle; nothing like what I saw earlier today." 

You took a deep breath. To think you were typically more of an introvert.

"You broke his trust. Gaining it back is...not going to be easy. Something happened to him, once. I don't know _why_ , and I don't know _how_ , and I don't know _who_. But what you did triggered something in him, and I..." You swallowed. "I think you all could do better. For him. For yourselves. I can see the love that holds you altogether. I come from a family that could care less if I lived or died. Here, I see a love that can't be broken by an outside force." You closed your eyes, feeling worn out. "Please don't let it crumble from the inside."

Alphys was all out weeping at this point. You hadn't meant to be that harsh, but you hoped your sincerity helped smooth it over, at least a little. You were mad at Undyne and Alphys for what they had done. You imagined how you would feel if people you trusted and loved did that to you. You'd feel betrayed. Scared. Confused.

Jumping out in front of a moving car wouldn't be the worst thing that might stream through your thoughts. There could have been a way worse scenario; one that involved Sans attempting - or succeeding - a suicide at home...where Frisk or Papyrus would have found him.

You shuddered.  _Stop that. You don't even know if that's what happened. You don't know he was suicidal. You just know things have been fucking with his head._

"This morning?" you asked weakly, feeling drained.

Alphys roughly brushed the tears from her eyes, not meeting your gaze. "I-I'm the one i-in charge of m-making sure Sans is i-in sight at all t-times. We...We h-have reasons to th-think he's...h-he's-"

"Suicidal," you supply stiffly.

She flinches. "O-Or i-involved in s-self-harm at the v-very least. Th-The monitors and c-cameras are n-necessary...S-Sans can be very...allusive. I v-volunteered to be the one t-to stay behind today and k-keep an eye on you, and F-Frisk, and Sans." She sighed. "Wh-When you reached out and t-tried t-to touch h-him, I...I-I started to g-get up, I-I really did! B-But...I was a-afraid that m-my presence w-would-"

"Make thing worse. Because of what you and Undyne tried."

Alphys nodded, swallowing. "B-By the t-time I w-worked through th-that it was more important I-I interfere, S-Sans was already healing you, and..." She blushed. "Y-You already h-had things under c-control."

You had, hadn't you? A sense of pride welled up inside you. You had been pretty strong through all of that, and had managed to calm both Frisk and Sans down enough that they had fallen asleep. You were fucking awesome. But the seriousness of the situation was not lost on you even then.

These monsters cared about Sans. Sometimes...people make stupid decisions when it comes to making sure the people they care for are alright. Not that you knew from personal experience. But you had seen it in other families. In those stupid soap operas your mother liked to watch. Even if your family was shit, you knew what a family was supposed to be like, and how they sometimes made mistakes. What Alphys and Undyne had tried...that was wrong. No matter how you looked at it. But it was something that they could mend with time. But they were going to need someone on the sidelines, someone impartial, letting them when there were lines that they needed not to cross.

You sighed. "That...metal thing, on Sans's leg? What is that?"

"O-Oh..." Alphys slouched impossibly further. "It's...I-It's two things r-really. It dampens S-Sans's magic e-enough to keep him f-from...teleporting. I-It's su-suposed to keep him f-from using any b-bone attacks e-either, b-but...W-Well, when h-he get's u-upset enough, he...S-Sans is s-stronger th-than he looks."

"Yeah," you had to agree. Even with the gaping wound gone, your palm still felt rather achy. "And whoa, whoa, whoa; _teleporting?_ "

Alphys nodded.

"That's a thing?"

"W-With Sans i-it is."

Huh. That was...pretty neat.

"So, this metal thing is to keep him from running off or using his magic too much," you repeated back. "Isn't that...almost as bad as tying him to a table?"

Alphys fidgeted. "I-It is a r-rather...c-cruel means of keeping h-him safe, b-but, Joe, y-you have to understand...W-We almost _l-lost_ him last night."

You winced.

"I-It's not your f-fault, and w-we don't b-blame you, b-but...Sans, h-he...He's s-so fragile..."

You think you understand. This is different than the stunt of trying to restrain him to a table for a fucking checkup. This is a necessary precaution, because he's already shown signs of being a danger to himself. "The second thing?"

"H-Huh?"

"What's the second function of the metal thing?" you press.

"Oh! It's, u-um...It's a s-sort of...t-tracking device? I-It will help us find h-him again if h-he somehow managed t-to leave the h-house. Th-That and it will a-alert m-me here in the lab i-if he walks o-out the door the n-normal way."

"I see." This is a big ol' ugly mess, but you finally see. "So, yay, good, you guys are taking precautionary measures for his safety. That's good. But what's the next step?" you ask.

"U-Um..."

"You have to have some sort of plan, right? He obviously needs help. Like, a psychologist or therapist or something."

Alphys deflated. "No doctor will t-take h-him. The Monster R-Rights act h-hasn't b-been fully passed y-yet, and even then i-it might be m-months b-before any human doctors s-start seeing m-monster patients."

You blink. "You goes don't have monster doctors for this kind of crap?"

Alphys shook her head. "M-Mental, o-or emotional problems are not...c-common among m-monsters."

"Shit."

"E-Exactly."

You felt so mad at humanity then. For the slow crawling progress of the government; for the stupid specism that made everything so much more complicated than it needed to be. Sans needed help, and he couldn't even get it. He needed someone to walk him through his shit, and get him through to the other side, but no human was willing to do so. It was sickening. It was barbaric. Monsters will living beings too; they deserved better than to be left suffering on their own. A lot of progress had been made, sure; but that wasn't going to be enough, or happen fast enough, to save Sans. And he needed saving. A month Alphys had said, that was all the time it had taken for him to start deteriorating. A 'few more months' of waiting, or longer, and there wouldn't be anything left of him _to_ save, you were sure. A trickle of an idea began forming in your mind. You batted it away at once, not wanting to shoulder that kind of responsibility it would entail, but it refused to leave you alone.

You swallowed, resigning yourself. "What about me?"

Alphys looked up, seeming startled. "Y-You?"

"I went to college for psychology," you explained. "Didn't earn my degree or anything, had to drop out because of...reasons. But I know a lot of the techniques and symptoms to look out for, and treatments that might help...It's not exactly legal for me to practice without a certificate, but...it's not like they're giving us much of a choice."

Alphys looked stunned. "Y-You'd...d-do that?"

"Of course I would," you smiled gently. "I've sort of...gotten attached to you guys. If you let me stay, I'll see what I can do to help Sans."

"W-We don't have m-much m-money-"

"I won't make you pay. I just want to help him out, Alphys. I owe him that much. I did run over him, don't forget."

She chuckled, shaking her head. "W-We can d-discuss it with the o-others, when th-they get h-home tonight."

"Sure. We'll make sure everyone's in agreement."

Suddenly an alarm went off, a quiet gentle kind. Alphys lurched forward toward the monitors, and you quickly rolled your chair out of the way. She pressed a few buttons, and the views on the monitors changed to different rooms. You flicked your gaze to the image of the living room, instantly noticing that Frisk was now sleeping on the couch alone.

"Sans?" you breathed.

"Y-Yes. He t-tripped something. H-He must be outside the h-house!" She pressed a few more buttons, looking rather frantic. "J-Just let m-me...There!"

A view of the front yard appeared on the largest monitor, and you sighed in relief. There he was. He looked so small out there in the open like that, standing in the sunlight and the breeze tugging at his clothes. He didn't look like he was going anywhere. Just sort of...frozen there in the grass. Arms limp at his sides. Completely still.

"W-What's h-he doing?" Alphys moaned in anxiety.

You squinted, watching the way he seemed to be standing, completely lax and impressionable. "I...think he's thinking," you said slowly. He probably had a lot to think about, you were sure.

"H-he really shouldn't b-be outside alone!"

You frowned. "Why not? He's not hurting anyone, and if he starts wandering off we can go after him, right?"

Alphys only looked more distressed. "N-No, you don't u-understand! I-It isn't s-safe for him t-to be out in the open l-like that. Th-There are monster h-hate groups and f-factions that m-might-"

Oh. _Oh_. Yeah, that was a good reason to freak out. 

You rose from your chair. "Should we go get him?"

The yellow lizard looked positively torn. "I-I- Y-Y-Yes! B-but! I-If I try t-to get him to c-come inside, h-he m-might....r-react bad again? H-He- It's l-like you said, I-I've broken his t-trust, I-"

"I'll go get him." You couldn't leave him out there where he could get hurt by some wacked out monster faction. "I'll see if I can get him to come inside."

Alphys practically melted. "Th-Th-Thank you!" She lurched forward and hugged you fiercely, and, after an awkward moment, you returned the gesture. When she let go, blushing like an anime character, you started up the stairs.

"Keep an eye on us, in case just me doesn't work. Frisk seems pretty good with him. if I need help, send them out."

Alphys nodded, and you rushed up the basement steps.

It was time to start helping Sans. 


	10. The First Steps Are The Hardest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, but two in one day I thought was nice. :)

It was time to start helping Sans. 

On your way up the basement stairs you had that unsettling fear that in between the time you started up and the time you would again catch sight of the skeleton, he would be gone. You tore up into Undyne and Alphys' house-side, nearly knocking over a tray table covered in empty noodle cups on your way through their living room. You muddled your way through the connector hallway and into the nearly blinding yellow of Toriel's kitchen. Your hip banged painfully against the corner of the table as you rushed past, and you swore, but raced on regardless. You leaped over the boxes and shuffled around the coats in the super-narrow hallway leading to the door, standing on tiptoe as you came to a halt, your hand on the knob and your eyes just making it high enough to see out the half circle window in the door.

Sans was still there, standing out in the open like he wasn't literally calling attention to himself, putting himself in danger of every human freako that might be within sight of him. Wasn't this the monster side of town? Was it really that dangerous for a monster to just stand out in their yard? If so, why wasn't that ever mentioned in the news? - Fucking media.

You dragged in a breath, trying to calm your breathing and adjusting the glasses on your face. You weren't overweight, by any means, but that didn't mean you were in shape. You had't exercised in eons, and you'd never had the strongest set of lungs. Bad asthma as a kid will do that to you.

When you felt you could speak without looking like a gulping guppy, you took another slow, measured breath, opened the door, and stepped out into the sunlight.

It was around twelve-thirty or one o'clock by now, the sun high in the sky over the neighborhood. No one was out, you noticed, though a few yard sprinklers were running, that familiar sound of pressurized water pleasant and definitely a staple of the time of year. It was an unusually warm March, the snow long since having melted and the grass already lush and green. A week ago it had gotten as hot as 68 degrees; unheard of for the norm for that particular month. The sun felt good on your shoulders as you started carefully down the steps, mindful to make plenty of noise as you did so. In your socks, you couldn't exactly stump your feet, but you coughed, cleared your throat a bit, and allowed the door to shut with a resounding thump.

Sans didn't turn around, but how his shoulders hunched told you he knew someone had come to get him.

You made your way across the pale tan pavement and then into the damp grass, walking carefully in case your approach was ill handled by your target. It didn't. The skeleton was utterly motionless, standing there like a tense, tired statue. You came to a stop five steps behind him, figuring that was close enough to be near him, but not a threat. No one could blame you for being a little scared. The little dude did literally stab you through your hand. You cleared your throat one last time, then spoke.

"Nice day."

No response.

"Definitely sunnier than yesterday. Whew! That was a lot of cold March rain."

Still nothing.

You sighed. "Look, pal, I really think we both got off on the wrong foot. I mean, with me running you over with my car and you shoving a bone dagger through my hand, what can I say. We both suck." You thought he relaxed a little at that, so you kept going. "You don't have to feel bad about that, by the way. I should have been able to see you were feeling on edge and left you be. I've always been kind of stupid like that."

"...you're not stupid."

His voice was very quiet, especially in the expanse of the great outdoors, but you heard it, and your heart soared.

"Pfft. Sure, buddy. I run away from home, drive my car into a monster, and get myself stabbed all within twenty-four hours? If I'm not stupid I'm something like it." You laugh, finding this situation is easier to handle with you putting yourself down, just like your mom always did. It was familiar, a homey sort of bitterness that you fell into comfortably.

Sans finally turned, or half turned really. He looked like shit. Beneath those sockets of his were dark shadows, like that hour or so nap he just took did absolutely nothing for him. His expression was confused, and a little frustrated. "i don't understand you," he said lowly.

You shrug. "Welcome to the club."

He shook his head. "no...no, i mean..." He faltered, before turning the rest of the way to face you. "i hurt you. aren't you...scared of me?"

You weren't going to lie. "Well, maybe a little. Like how I might be scared of petting cats after getting scratched by one. but it doesn't mean i'm never going to try again."

"h-heh." He only looked more uncertain. "there's a difference between cat scratches and magic attacks, lady."

"Maybe. Maybe not. They're both a means of defense, aren't they? Cats scratch when you spook them." You met his eyes evenly. Those pretty little eye lights that you really wish you could get a closer look at. "And I spooked you. And for that I'm sorry."

He shrugged, his hands moving to the pockets of his shorts. "got nothing to feel sorry about," he said simply. "it was my fault. i get a little..." He trailed off, looking lost.

You nodded, hoping to at least appear understanding. "It's okay." You took a step closer, watching his body language in case the action wasn't welcome. He didn't move away, so that was good. "I...really do think we got off on the wrong foot," you say again, laughing. He smiles, a tired, shaky smile that tells you he might actually be welcome to being your friend. "We fooled around in the kitchen a little, and you seem like a pretty neat guy."

"for a monster," he says, searchingly. Like he's testing you. Trying to gauge your reaction.

"Mmmno," you answer, kindly. "For anyone. Believe me, I know enough jerks to be an expert in judging people." You take another step closer, still not too close, but close enough now you're like two normal people, having a conversation on the wet front lawn...in your socks. Sans is wearing his socks too.

"a judge, huh," he responds, maybe a little distantly.

The word seems to hold something important for him, but you don't feel now is the time to ask. Instead, you gather your courage and say: "So, what are you doing out here all alone? You should be inside, resting. You got hit by a car last night. You were a mess. I don't care how much that healing magic fixed things up, you gotta be sore, dude."

He shrugged again. "m'think'n."

Just like you thought. "About what?"

"...stuff."

You nod. "Well, it's sort of lunch time, and I've always thought better on a full stomach. How about we go in and fix something for lunch?"

He smiles, then shakes his head. His smile though, it's strained now. Uh oh.

"alphys sent you out here, didn't she?"

"No." And that's not a complete lie. "Let's say she agrees with my course of action, but coming out here to get you was my idea."

Sans nods his skull, looking away down the street. "she probably told you all about me." The way he says it makes you bristle. There's anger and hurt, hidden deep below the casual-ness of the statement. 

Again you deny it. "No. She told me a bit, so that I at least know somewhat why you apparently shoved a weapon through me. But no, not 'all about you'. There's still plenty left for me to figure out myself."

He rolls his eye lights and smirks. "fun."

"I know, right?" You nod down to the metal band on his ankle. "You know she put that thing on you to try and keep you safe."

"...i know."

"And you know she's literally watching you in every corner of the house." There was no way someone as sharp and observant as Sans seemed to be not noticing those cameras.

"...yeah."

"So, why come out here?"

Sans studied you a long moment, the spring breeze blowing between the two of you. What little normalcy had risen in him suddenly fell, and again he looked almost as lost and broken as he had the night before, when you had him wrapped in your blanket, cradled in your arms. He shuffled his feet, his gaze fixing on the ground like it was something new and interesting. Finally, in a weak voice strained by repressed emotions, he croaked:

"i really don't know." He made a strange noise, like someone holding back a sob, and that grin was back but it was stretched and wrong, nowhere near happy. "i don't really know half of what i do anymore. i feel...i feel..."

"Lost?"

"...y-yeah."

You take a deep breath. "I...haven't really talked to the others yet, but...I think I can help you."

He looks up at you at that. There's moisture gathered under his sockets, but no active crying. He's to strong for that. Or, at least, he thinks he is. "...how?"

"How isn't important," you say gently. "I can tell you that what I see is someone who feels lost and confused. I've been there. I have friends who have been there. They all made it out all right. I'm no expert, but if there's one thing I know, it's that a little bit of help can go a long way."

Sans looked nervous. "you a d-doctor?"

You really weren't. "No. No, but I took some classes once. And experience is on my side. You kinda look like you're at the end of your rope, buddy. And you know what they say, when you're at your lowest, there's no where else to go but up." You hold out your hand, smiling gently. "I...get the feeling you're starting to feel trapped. That you think there's only a few, less desirable solutions left to you, but that's a lie. I'm not promising you anything, Sans," and the name rolls off your tongue with more fondness than you would have thought possible. "But please...don't shut out the people who care about you. Sometimes they make stupid mistakes, and sometimes the help you need is easier to take from a stranger, so...Come on. Let's go inside. Before some weirdo tries to pick you up and sell you on eBay." You hold out your hand. "Please?"

He stares at you, and you can practically see the gears in his head turning. He's desperate, he's scared, he's tired in a way only certain people can understand. He wants to believe you can help him. He wants to make the others happy, and he wants to be happy - you can see it all in his face. But he knows he has to start forward first. And everyone, monster, human, or whatever, knows the first step is always the hardest. You can only wait patiently, standing there with your hand held out toward him. He blinks, his breath hitching once or twice before you see his fingers twitch in his pocket. You stand firm. Waiting. Waiting...

And then he pulls one hand out and carefully moves to place it in yours. His bony fingers are smooth and pleasant, like cool plastic on a hot day. He's shaking a little, but you encourage his bravery with a warm smile.

"There you go. Come on, let's head in and eat some fucking noodle cups or something. From what I saw earlier, Alphys has enough to feed an army."

When you tug gently, Sans follows. Joltingly, untrustingly, but he _is_ following.

Maybe this will all work out after all.

If you can just gain Sans's trust.


	11. One Step Forward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I have no excuse. Laziness I guess.

Sans's trust...

It was a frail, unstable sort of thing, you could see that, and you wondered what kind of tragedy must have befallen the skeleton to damage him so. He acted fine, but in a tired sort of way, like he knew his walls were beginning to crumble, but wasn't sure how to let them fall. He wore a mask, so to speak, a smile pasted to his pale bone face and yet his eyes holding something sad and listless. Your heart ached at it, even as you marveled at the beauty of those delicate little eye lights. You were no true psychologist, but you knew people didn't get like Sans from an easy life, of that you were certain, and yet you couldn't quite piece together just what sort of hardship he had endured that would so damage his sense of trust. Sure, he had been trapped underground for most of life, imprisoned by humanity's cruelty, that could explain some of his issues...but so had all the others, and they seemed...normal enough. The only thing you could figure was that something bad had happened to Sans, sometime in his life, and that his family knew nothing about it, not even Papyrus. Seemed legit, seeing as Sans appeared to be the type to hide his hurts. Running away from his problems, hiding in his room. Hurting his loved ones with his stubborn silence. Those weren't things you did because you were going through a mood.

That sounded more like bad shit catching up with him, and him not knowing how to deal with it.

You blinked, surprised by the wetness slipping down your cheek. You raised a hand, brushed your face, and then stared down in shock at the glimmer of tears on your fingertips. Crying. You were crying. Jeez, you were a mess.

You had taken a moment to use the restroom in the monster household, and had ended up sitting on the lowered toilet lid, thinking. You hadn't realized you'd needed a moment to yourself, and you hadn't realized this was all getting to you so much. You'd always been a bit sensitive, so this shouldn't have surprised you like it did.

You had gotten Sans inside the house without any incident, and he hadn't put up hardly any fuss, other than a few moments of hesitation just outside the front door. You could practically see his mind weighing his options; to resist or give in. You wondered what both meant to him. Where would he go if he wandered off? Back to the highway? Get hit by another car? You didn't know, but you had felt so relieved when Sans finally stepped up into the hallway and the front door had been closed behind you both. You'd set him up with some noodles and a cup of warm milk, something you often drank to calm your nerves. He was still limping, worse now that he had ventured outside and you asked if he wanted something for the pain. He hadn't liked that idea at all, and you had quickly assured him you wouldn't make him take anything if he didn't want to. After a very brief check in with Alphys in the basement, which you did alone, you and Sans had both sat back down in the living room, this time to watch the news. Frisk was still asleep, curled up and probably still worn out from the day before. You imagined Frisk had gotten very little sleep. You could relate. There was mention of a meeting at the embassy on TV, and you could only assume it was the one Toriel, Papyrus, and Undyne had left for. Either way, not much was said about it, and you soon flipped the TV over to the science channel. Sans seemed to like that. Something about microorganisms. 

You had excused yourself to use the bathroom, trusting Sans to stay indoors and be behaved now that you both had an understanding. You had shut yourself up in that little restroom off of the kitchen and just...sort of drifted off into thought.

Certain aspects of Sans's situation reminded you of yourself. The sense of trapped hopelessness, certainly. You could feel it coming off of him in waves, so strongly you wondered how no one else had been able to so aptly sense his pain. It was like a beacon, strong and bright and desperate, and yet also shriveled and dying, like he was slowly giving in to its power. You understood that kind of pulsing emotion. You responded to it, somehow. Maybe you just hadn't realized how much.

You wiped away the tears. Your sense of empathy had always been a little high. You didn't care shit about yourself most of the time, but you cared about others. When you saw another being suffering, it hit you right in your heart, in your very soul. It was one of the reasons you had never been able to bring yourself to watch those stupid doctor dramas on television. You got to involved with the characters. As a child you had once come across a baby bird that had fallen from its nest. It had been in...pretty bad shape. You had tried your best to nurse it back to health, and when it had died anyway, despite your ministrations, you had been devastated. You had a fear of death, you supposed. Maybe not of experiencing it yourself, but in losing those closest to you. The circumstances in which you had met Sans worried you. The way he had just sort of...stepped out in front of your car. You might be...obsessing a little, but you felt closer to Sans than you would have thought possible, especially since you'd only known him for a small number of hours. Was that normal? Maybe it was just a kind of...sympathetic attachment. Your mind wandered to how nurses sometimes fell for their patients, and felt your cheeks heat. You weren't interested in Sans in any romantic sense; it was just...you cared so much about what happened to him, it almost hurt.

Hence the tears in your eyes, apparently.

You weren't even sure what he thought of you. You'd hit him with your car, for God's sake. You'd invaded his home. Become his unofficial  _babysitter_. He had no reason to like you, or trust you, at all. And yet he had taken your hand and allowed you to pull him to safety. You felt as though you knew so much about him. Papyrus had told you enough that you felt you knew Sans better than you new your own family. You almost felt like you had known Sans for most of your life.

Empathy.

Sympathy.

Guilt.

Duty.

You didn't know what it was that so firmly tied you to him. But apparently it was starting to get to you a little. It didn't help that you were starting to get a little anxious about the inevitable talk with the whole family later that night, once they got back from the meeting. It was odd, how you really didn't have any place in this familial picture, but had become so hopelessly entangled. You really had some choice words set aside for Undyne, for that idiotic little 'examination' she and Alphys had dreamed up. Then again, you knew they had meant well. Having gotten to know Alphys, you assumed it was Undyne who had come up with the idea. You hoped she felt like a moron for treating Sans like that.

You stood up from your seat on the toilet lid, leaning over the sink to inspect your eyes in the mirror. Thankfully, the few, sluggish tears you had shed hadn't given your face that ugly-cry-look. You cupped your hands under the running faucet and splashed cold water on your face, washing away all traces of your little emotion break.

When you stepped back out into the kitchen, you were surprised to see Alphys standing nervously by the connector hallway. She startled at your sudden arrival, but then kept glancing anxiously into the living room, where Sans was surely still watching the science channel. You realized that, from her position, Alphys could see Sans, but Sans could not see her, at least not without craning his neck uncomfortably to the side.

You frowned. 

You could understand her reluctance to engage Sans after...what had happened, but she was a part of his family. Letting things sit and simmer, blistering, unhealing, was a bad idea. Maybe Sans wouldn't want to see her. Understandable. Completely understandable. But, for both their sake, she needed to at least _try_ apologizing.

You stepped forward, making sure to raise your voice a little more than necessary. "Oh, hey, Alphys! What can I do for you?"

The yellow lizard monster shrunk back into the hallway shadows, eyes reflecting panic behind her glasses. Those dark pupils ping-ponged back and forth between you and the living room, where Sans undoubtedly was now listening at full attention. "O-Oh! J-J-Joe! I-I-"

"Did you want to see Sans?" you pressed, voice tinged with something that you hoped screamed 'talk to him!'. All this pussy-footing around was only going to make matters worse. "He's in the living room."

"I-I don't know i-if I-"

You shifted closer, treating her to an avid stare. You were close enough that you could whisper, words for her ears alone.

"Apologize," you mouthed softly, and you could see how she fought with herself. Like she wanted to make amends so, so badly, but was scared out of her wits to do so. You had no idea if Sans was the forgiving sort or not, and you had already witnessed him loose his shit at least once, but Alphys seemed like such a well-meaning individual. Papyrus had mentioned Sans and her were close, both liking science and mathematics. Maybe that's why her betrayal had hurt Sans so much. 

Alphys took a shuddering breath, her hands clutching at the front of her little sun dress. She swallowed, but seemed to regain a little courage. With purpose, she moved out of the hallway's shadow and rounded the corner into the living room, you right at her heels.

Sans's reaction was warranted. He stiffened in his seat on the sofa, sockets widening and legs moving out from under him toward the floor, like he was getting ready to run. You hoped he didn't. He needed to listen just as much as Alphys needed to talk.

Frisk kept snoring in the far left corner of the couch. Man, that kid was a heavy sleeper.

Alphys came to a stop halfway into the room, looking slumped and incredibly humble. You took up a spot in the door frame, leaning against the post with your arms crossed over your chest. A watcher, in case things went south. Not that you'd be able to do much, but, hell, you weren't leaving these two to themselves. Both seeming like soft, gentle souls, you knew from experience that it was those who were often known as 'quiet' that could have the harshest fights. They needed someone to mediate, so that stinging words wouldn't be exchanged without someone there to try and soften the blow.

God. Since when had you become a referee?

"S-Sans..." Alphys greeted, not meeting the skeleton's eyes.

Sans studied her, his posture relaxing slowly, though you could see it was kind of forced. "...alphys," he greeted in return.

Alphys gaze shifted to linger on the metal band around her friend's ankle, the one she herself had clipped there. The sight seemed to break her down a bit, and her shoulders became less tense, the small scientist releasing a sad, regretful sigh. "S-Sans, I-" She looked to you and you nodded, encouraging her. "I-I really th-think we should...should talk a-about what h-happened."

Sans's expression was unreadable. "...which 'what happened'?" he asked tiredly. "the one where i stepped out in front of a moving car or the one where my best friends tried to tie me down against my will?" 

Oooooh, yeah. That was the tone of someone carrying a  _lot_  of hurt.

And was that an admittance that he had stepped out in front of your car on purpose?!

Alphys winced, but didn't miss a beat. "Th-The one wh-where your b-best friends tried t-to tie you d-down against your w-w-will."

"oh. great. fun." Sarcasm. It could practically be a language all its own, of which Sans was fluent.

"I-I...W-We, Undyne and m-me - We h-had no right to t-try and f-force you l-like that." Alphys twisted the hem of her dress between nervous fingers. "W-We should have just a-asked. W-We should h-have talked t-to you...B-But we were s-so worried! And y-you're always s-so stubborn! We...W-We just wanted t-to help you...We c-care about you s-so much, S-Sans!" She was breaking down now, and you felt the tears trying to return to your own eyes as they ran freely down her yellow cheeks. "I-i've been in d-dark places before, y-you know? And I...I-I know what was going through m-my head th-then, and to think y-you might be thinking th-those s-same th-thoughts, i-it-" She choked, her head and gaze lowering as her shoulders shook. "I-I can't l-lose you. N-None of us c-could ever s-stand losing y-you..." She trailed off, every argument in her mind probably falling flat, even in her own ears.

You felt like you had been sucker punched. Crying silently by the door, you watched as the two monsters fell into a quiet standoff.

Sans remained silent a moment, his gaze fixed on the floor. He was thinking, you could tell, but he was also shaking a little, as was Alphys. And then, so slowly it was almost in slow motion, he stood up from his place on the couch. Alphys flinched, but stayed her ground, already accepting whatever was about to happen. Wordlessly, Sans took the number of steps he needed to in order to stand right in front of Alphys. He seemed taller than her, she was hunched so far into herself, though you knew from earlier that Sans was in fact the shorter of the two by at least an inch or two. He stared at her, taking her in, and then reached out and pulled her into the gentlest embrace you'd ever seen.

Alphys seemed shocked, stunned by his reaction, but the minute she realized she was being forgiven she lurched deeper into his arms and hugged him back, the two wrapped in each others' arms almost desperately.

You smiled to yourself, brushed your tears on your sleeve, and moved out to the kitchen so they could have a little privacy. You hunted around the kitchen for some hot chocolate - because every and any house with a kid is bound to have some - and started boiling some water. By the time you had four cups of steaming cocoa ready, you could here Sans and Alphys chatting away at a normal volume, Frisk's voice popping in, the child awake. You smiled, and, finding a tray, decided to join the mended company.

* * *

The rest of the day passed without incident.

Sans and Alphys were back to being friends it seemed, the two sipping cocoa and watching a documentary on ancient inventions. They seemed to have a lot of opinions on how to make better or more efficient designs, and you and Frisk listened, amused, as they chattered. Alphys and Sans were very smart, or at least they certainly sounded like they were. Alphys, for all her stuttering and nervousness, seemed to have an outlandish amount of knowledge stored away in her mind, and Sans equaled her at the very least. Their areas of knowledge spanned from basic science to advanced mechanics and quantum theory. 

You, quite honestly, couldn't keep up, but watching them prattle on and on in low, excited voices did your heart a world of good.

Frisk looked relieved, and kept sending you grateful glances. You had given them a hot chocolate too, and, sitting side by side, you both enjoyed watching your monster friends interact. Not that you both didn't snip in your own thoughts on various subjects from time to time.

You were used to wasting a day away indoors. You'd been unemployed for a week or so now, so staying at home while your mother was at work had been something you'd rather enjoyed. And loathed. Enjoyed and loathed. Being alone was both great, and horrible; and then of course your mother had always said such terrible things about you when she got home. About how lazy you were. About how useless you were. Go out and get a job, Jocosta. Why don't you get married. Why don't you get a life. Pfft. Just thinking about it stressed you out. It was hard to gather courage and motivation to 'live your life' when you constantly had someone telling you what a waste you were. Why try? Why try when you already knew, or thought you knew, that you were a waste of time, effort, and space.

Of course, you knew none of that was true...Probably. But still, that kind of shit ate at your soul after a while. It had done damage, and you knew it had done damage.

You should have left home a long time ago.

But yeah. You were pretty used to being inside all day, so when you all heard the front door open, and you glanced at the living room clock to see it was almost six-thirty, you honestly weren't all that surprised. A lazy day at home could go by in a flash...or go insanely slow. Depended on your mood. And today, oddly enough, had gone by fairly fast.

"Hello?" Toriel's motherly voice called.

You automatically responded, shouting out from your spot on the couch. "Hi! We're in the living room!"

There was a lot of shuffling noises, doubtless the sound of large monsters trying to make their way down a narrow, cluttered hallway without falling over. There was a click on clawed feet on tile and then Toriel appeared in the living room doorway, a massive monster behind her that you didn't recognize. They had a beard, so you assumed it was a 'he', and he seemed to be of the same kind of monster as Toriel. He towered tall in the house, a good head and shoulders taller than Toriel, making the four of you in the living room look like dwarfs by comparison. He had enormous, elegant horns that were in danger of scraping the ceiling, but his eyes and smile were gentle as they fell on you. Fatherly, in the same way that Toriel was motherly. He was dressed in what you could only guess was armor and a cape, making him look out of place in the domestic setting of Toriel's small home.

Undyne and Papyrus followed in behind them, looking a little less exuberant than usual, but looking satisfied. Apparently the meeting had gone well?

You stood when Alphys stood, realizing that she was doing so out of respect. Sans, unsurprisingly somehow, remained seated on the couch. He had fallen silent again, all the chattery energy of before dying out into something shy and tense. Frisk, however, flung themself out of their seat and ran forward, leaping into the massive new monster's arms.

"Dad!"

Oh. 

_Oh shit._

You're brain wasn't fast by any means, but it managed to splice together what few bits of information you had.

'Dad'.

This was Frisk's adopted 'father'.

Asgore. The King of Monsters.

You suddenly felt waaaaaay out of your element. You had the strong urge to prostrate yourself on the floor, show respect, but Toriel was a queen and she hadn't wanted that. What if you insulted this guy? What if NOT bowing down insulted him?!

"Jocasta?" Toriel's gentle voice broke you out of your spiraling thoughts. "This is Asgore, King of Monsters, and my ex-husband."

You detected an odd note to her voice at that, and you recognized it immediately. It was the same tone your aunt Bridget used when she spoke about her ex from Guatemala. Contempt. Bitterness. Though Toriel's was decidedly less sharp and less prominent. A less experienced person wouldn't have even noticed. 

"Asgore, this is Jocasta Taylor."

Asgore stepped forward into the living room, having to duck low so as not hit his horns on the entree. He held forth a large paw-like hand in greeting. "Ah, Miss Taylor. I have heard so much about you from the others. It is a pleasure to meet you in person."

Trembling, you gave a shaky smile and stretched out your hand to return the gesture, shaking the king's hand with a slightly dazed expression no doubt fixed to your face. "O-Oh, um, yeah. It's nice to meet you too."

"H-Hello, A-Asgore," Alphys piped in, looking just as nervous as you. Which was ridiculous. She knew this dude a hell of a lot better than you did. "I-I didn't know you w-were coming to v-visit t-today. D-Did the meeting g-go well?"

Asgore turned to Alphys, his expression kind. "Yes, the meeting went quite well. A lot was accomplished."

"Th-That's g-good." Alphys frowned, however, still looking nervous. "B-But, then...wh-why are y-you...?"

A sad, stern expression shadowed over the king's face, his gaze slowly sliding over to the small skeleton still sitting on the couch. You followed his gaze, a sinking feeling settling in your stomach as you realized Sans wasn't looking up at anyone, his gaze fixed doggedly to the floor.

Asgore sighed.

"I have come because there needs to be a meeting on another sort. One that involves all of us. Sans most of all."

Shit. You realized you weren't ready for this.


	12. Drag Out the Truth, One Way or Another

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, boyfriend left me. Depression is a bitch, especially when those who are supposed to love me stab me in the back. Don't worry, this story won't be abandoned, just don't expect me to post regularly.

Shit. You realized you weren't ready for this.

Sans, apparently, shared that thought completely.

Just as his reconciliation with Alphys had brightened his demeanor drastically, this sudden turn of events had reduced him to a very rigid and small little thing, completely curled in on himself, like he expected to be struck or yelled at. You'd only known Asgore for a few second, but you could tell he wasn't the kind of person to do either of those things. And none of the others would either - though Undyne...you still weren't sure about her. She was very brash, and loud, and intense. But, even then, you doubted she would purposefully hurt Sans. Purposefully being the key word.

Sans was sitting on the couch, back slouched forward, arms close to his body, and hands gripping his knees hard enough that the black fabric had bunched up under his fingers. His gaze was fixed almost feverishly to the floor, not meeting anyone's gaze, and very obviously not planning to either. His shoulders were stiff, but from where you were standing you could just make out the slight tremors that were running through him.

He was scared.

Of his own family.

Not that they would hurt him, but that they were being forced to 'deal' with him and his issues. You could see it in his face; a mask that screamed 'i'm fine! i'm okay!', but was anything but fine or okay. He was dreading this, and so was everyone else, yourself included.

"Oh, do...do you want me to leave?" You asked humbly, even though that was the _last_ thing you wanted. You don't know what you would have said or done if you had been told to leave, but, thankfully, Asgore shook his great maned head.

"No, no, Miss Taylor. In fact, you are just as much a part of this now as we are, I believe. Please, if you are willing, stay?"

You nodded, breathing a sigh of relief. "Thank you."

Asgore smiled, but it was shaky. He looked like a dude who had a lot on his mind. Like someone who was trying to juggle one too many projects at a time, and was about two or three weeks away from burning himself out. Maybe he needed a vacation. Though, given who and what he was, you doubted very much such an opportunity would be arising very soon. Poor guy. Made you feel bad, that you had literally just laid around all day, watching anime and documentaries. 

The others had all made it into the living room fully by now. At a quiet word from Toriel, Frisk left, and you could here the sound of her footsteps upstairs. Asked to her room while the adults talked, you guessed. Toriel moved over to a vacant chair beside the couch, sitting on the very edge of the cushion rather than getting comfortable. Undyne propped herself up against the wall between the television and the door, arms crossed over her chest and an expression of stern uncertainty on her face. Alphys fidgeted at her side, standing just beside the door at Undyne's hip. Papyrus had been brave enough, or maybe just compassionate and loving enough, to stride forward and carefully sit himself down at Sans's side. Your heart warmed when the tall skeleton inconspicuously reached out and gently pried Sans's nearest hand from Sans's knee, letting the smaller latch onto him instead. Supportive. Asgore had remained standing in the middle of the living room floor, an imposing figure, even if he wasn't trying to be.

You silently wished he'd sit down, if only to make Sans feel less...loomed over.

You stood over by the couch, just in front of the lamp stand like an idiot, unsure of just where you were supposed to go. It had been made obvious that you were to take part in this little...drama, but you didn't know how you should proceed to do so. The only available seat now was the cushion next to Sans, the side not occupied by his brother. But did you really deserve such a position? Shouldn't someone he knew better take up guard on his other side? Make him feel safe?

But they were all looking at you with patient anticipation, and so, slowly, and with Papyrus's kind smile encouraging you, you slowly slipped onto the cushion, refraining from taking Sans's other hand; the one still gripping his other knee.

Asgore nodded to you, appreciative, then cleared his throat. "I...have been informed of a number of...interesting matters, concerning an individual living in this household. These matters are concerning, to Toriel and myself, as well as all of you." He gestured to Papyrus, and Undyne and Alphys. They all nodded sagely. Sans remained still and quiet, eyes fixed on the floor and his shoulders rising slightly, almost as if bracing himself. "While I know measures have been tried, with good intentions," here he gave Undyne a look, "it is obvious that they have done very little good in the long run. Which is why...Toriel came to me."

Toriel wilted, her eyes sad as she tried to meet Sans's gaze. "I am sorry, my friend," she apologized gently. "I...I did not know what else to do."

Sans didn't answer, but you noticed how that hand tightened on his knee, so hard it must have hurt.

Papyrus sent you a worried look from over his brother's skull.

Asgore allowed tie for Sans to say something, and when he didn't the king sighed. His voice sounded very business like. Kingly, you supposed. Stern, gentle, and serious all rolled into one. "I cannot stress enough the importance of our progress with humanity. Each of us, more so than any other monster, are example to others of our own kind, as well as the humans around us. When we falter, people notice. When we do well, and show our true selves, people take note. And when one of us are falling out of step, or acting in a unsettling manner...it is very apparent." He took a breath, gaze sad. "Therefore, the duty falls to myself to try and do all I can to correct - assist - such issues that may arise."

You held your breath, heart feeling choked.

"Do..." Asgore seemed uneasy. "Do you understand, Sans?"

There was a beat, a long, uncomfortable beat, and then Sans finally looked up. You couldn't see his expression to well, not being right in front of him, but you could see he was smiling, eyes half lidded. His voice, when he spoke, was calm and carefree, amused almost.

"yeah, i understand. don't know what all the hullabaloo is about, though. i'm fine. never been better."

Alphys made a soft sound in her throat, like his words were the equivalent of getting elbowed in the gut. "W-We both know th-that isn't true, S-Sans."

"i'm fine."

"Sans-"

_**"i ' m   f i n e ."** _

"Cut the shit, Sans," Undyne growled. She had pushed away from the wall, standing slightly in front of Alphys protectively. "It's fucking obvious you aren't 'fine', so just tell us what's wrong so we can straighten you out."

_'No no no'_ your brain grumbled in annoyance. Telling Sans he needed to be fixed was NOT the way to do this. He knew he was...What? Broken? Hurting? He didn't need to be made to list off his shortcomings, he needed to be comforted and then presented with a way to get better. But you didn't have the authority here to just speak up and chide Undyne for her words. If they gave you an in, you'd take it. Until then, you could only grit your teeth ad watch in solemn anxiety. To your relief, Asgore spoke up.

"Undyne," he said sternly, and the fishy-ish monster backed down immediately. Asgore returned his gaze to Sans, the skeleton looking up at him with an almost frighteningly cheery expression. He was trying so hard to keep up his careless facade. That grin spread just a little to wide to be strictly neutral. "Sans, as much as we all wish that were the case...we all know that it is not. According to what I have been told, you have become despondent, irritable, and...and possibly a danger to yourself." The last part seemed almost painful for him to say. "This, whatever this is...it cannot be allowed to continue."

Sans slumped further into himself, but somehow still managed to keep his smile pasted to his face. It was so strained, pained. "so," he said rather shakily, "what are you going to do?" He chuckled humorlessly. "because, as i see it, you've only got two choices. either send me away, or-"

"NO." It was the first time Papyrus had spoken since he had returned home. He was staring down at the floor now, while everyone, Sans included, looked to him; everyone startled by the near bite in his tone. "NO, SANS. WE ARE NOT GOING TO DO...ANYTHING LIKE _THAT_."

You were confused, but you figured Sans had been going to suggest being...restrained? Put away somehow? Alphys had said there weren't any monster psychologists; did that mean they didn't have facilities for the mentally ill? Because that was what was being discussed here. Sans's mental state, emotional state, and how his actions and behavior would potentially hurt either himself or monsters as a whole. 

It wasn't uncommon for humans with high levels of depression or suicidal intentions to be sent to specialized hospitals for recovery. You had a friend once, back in high school, whose mother had been sent to one for a while. The woman had had a mental break after the death of her husband. You couldn't remember how that had all turned out, but you hoped your friend's mom had turned out alright in the end.

Monsters, you suspected, didn't have that luxury. And if they did, you suspected it was anything but ideal.

Sans sighed, his smile finally dropping. "so what then?" At their silence he seemed to lose a little nerve, irritation showing through. "so what then, guys?" he hissed tightly.

Toriel spoke up, regaining control of the situation. "Sans, that is quite enough. We are only trying to help you."

"i don't need to be helped!"

"You do."

It was a moment before you realized you had been the one to contradict him. Your breath froze in your throat, your eyes shooting to meet Sans's. He looked back at you, those beautiful eye lights constricted to little dots. He looked betrayed. But you weren't about to back down. This was for his own good after all.

"You hurt me," you continued, ignoring the sharp inhales that followed your statement. Sans's gaze flicked frantically around the room, like he was looking for an escape, but Papyrus had tightened his hold on his brother's hand when Sans had tried to slip free. "You attacked me, Sans. And while I have more than forgiven you, and understand that it wasn't something you intended to do, I can't ignore that you did it. Self defense, yes, but misplaced. I wasn't going to hurt you, and you reacted. What if it had been someone else? Someone who wouldn't forgive you the way I have."

"it was an accident," Sans whispered hoarsely. "i didn't mean to-"

"But it still happened," you drove home. You vaguely realized you were now falling into the very tactic Undyne had, forcing Sans to see his faults, so he could better accept his condition. After all, people needed to know they were sick before they could be convinced they needed a doctor, right? Wasn't that in the bible or something? You had no idea, you hadn't been to church since grade school. "It could happen again."

"n-no...no, it won't, i won't let it, i wo-"

"Sans?"

He flinched at your voice. Or maybe it was your touch, because in your sincerity you had reached out, finally, to lay your hand on his hand still gripping his knee. He didn't pull away, which was good. No one else in the room even breathed, all the monsters watching you and Sans with stunned attention. Sans didn't answer, but he fell silent, his breath stuttering and tight. He was shivering so hard you could feel it easily. You hated that you had to do this...but...you had to.

"Sans," you said again sternly. And this was it. This would be the question that would decide everything else. "Did you step out in front of my car on purpose?"

Sans outright blanched at that, turning a disturbing shade of white. His trembling increased, and you pried his hand from his knee to hold it yourself, mirroring Papyrus almost exactly. Sans fought with himself, you could literally see the inner struggle. You took the moment to look up at the others in the room.

Papyrus and Toriel looked sick.

Alphys looked guilty, like she already knew the answer.

Undyne looked...It was hard to tell what that expression was. Braced? Resigned? Alert, you decided. Alert.

Asgore merely looked patient. Pained, but patient.

"Sans?" you pressed one more time, voice a whisper. Gentle and kind. Honest and as understanding as you could make it.

"...y-yes."

You felt your heart break. You felt every heart in the room break. " 'Yes' what?" you urged.

Sans's head fell forward into his hands. His bones were rattling now, his distress finally laid bare. Out of the corner of your eye you caught sight of the others all moving a step forward, those who had been sitting standing with a nervous, uncertain action. You stayed them with a slight raising of your hand and a look.

"y-y-yes...i...i st-stepped...on purp-purpose....i'm...i c-couldn't-" His words were suddenly cut off by a sharp, violent sob. It was a horrible sound. A helpless, desperate noise. "i c-can't do this i c-can't d-do-it's too -t-too m-much i-"

Papyrus lurched forward, kneeling on the floor in front of his brother before tugging Sans off the couch and into his arms. Sans curled forward into Papyrus's chest, sobbing brokenly. Toriel was beside them in a moment, as was Alphys, the two moving to hold the two brothers. Papyrus soothed and whispered encouragements to his devastated sibling, a bony hand caressing up and down the shivering skeleton's spine, trying to shush him to a calmer state.

Undyne and Asgore looked just about as stunned and out of place as you felt. Undyne had stepped forward, just as the others had, but then stopped. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides, her clearly uncertain of what she should do. Asgore remained as he was, looking sad, but also grateful. He, like you, knew this had to be done. He met your gaze, giving a slight nod, before he too bent down, kneeling beside Papyrus so that he could peer down at Sans's slumped, heaving form. Papyrus looked up, tears in his eyes, and something passed between him in the king; a question, and a tremulous answer, both silent, but clear. Asgore nods, and his gaze slips to Alphys. She seems to have been waiting on his signal, because the minute he gives the go ahead she slipped her hand into the pocket of her dress. 

You recognize the object she extracts at once. It's a syringe, though it's capped, so that it wouldn't stick her. You wonder how long she's had it there, trying to think back throughout the day. You couldn't imagine. Yet, somehow, this had all been planned ahead of time, because you saw the shaky preparation in the faces of all the monsters, with only the exception of Sans, who was still crying weakly into his brother's chest.

Carefully, gently, Alphys leaved forward, syringe posed and uncapped. Papyrus tilted as far out of the way as he could, his hands, as well as one of Toriel's and one of Asgore's, helping to steady the small skeleton as he was tenderly shifted. If Sans had any indication of what they were about to do to him, he didn't show it. Even as the needle easily slipped into the back base of his neck, into the barely visible rings of magic that lived between each of his bones, holding him together, he didn't react. Other than a slight hitch of breath and a groan, he remained as he was.

A few moments later, he went limp, breathing even and trembling diminished to a subconscious shiver.

Papyrus released a choked sob of his own, pulling Sans closer to his chest and rocking his brother's senseless body gently.

"I'M SORRY BROTHER. I'M SO SORRY."


	13. Pass the Blame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry I never really reply to comments, but I swear I read them and that they really make my day. It makes a difference, knowing that you guys are getting such a kick out of this story. Someone even made some fanart! Dude, that meant a lot. I'm doing...okay. Better than I thought I would. Maybe Mr. A-hole leaving me wasn't the...worst thing that could happen. My friends say I actually look healthier than I did before. Yeah, it hurt when he left, but...He wasn't really the...best of guys anyway, you know? So, I guess I just want to say 'thanks'. You all were very encouraging, and you helped me through a couple of really dark days.
> 
> Peace! <3

"I'M SO SORRY."

Papyrus's soft, whispered words were like a metaphorical brick thrown through the glass of your consciousness. You lurched forward, your voice a near shriek. "What did you just _do?!_ "

It was as though the event had played out in slow motion, your brain stuck in some weird muck and mire, unresponsive until that moment. Your emotions burst forth, your eyes blown wide in righteous anger as you gazed down in horror at the now completely unconscious Sans. He looked so small, so helpless, and that needle in Alphys trembling hand looked so big, and sharp and cruel-

"I just spent all day helping him _regain_ trust in you guys, and this is what you go and do?!" you roared. "Stick a goddamn _needle_ in his neck??!! What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Asgore carefully straightened into a stand. You supposed you should have probably been afraid of him, but you weren't. You would have stood up to fucking Cthulhu at this point, you were so fucking upset. The king regarded you with a sad, wincing expression, completely understanding, and yet with that self sustained guilt that somehow made you feel even more pissed off.

"Please, Miss Taylor-"

"You're supposed to be his family!"

"And we are," Toriel interjected gently. "Please, Joe, you must understand. Sans _consented_ to this."

Your mind came to a careening halt. "...What?"

Toriel smiled sadly, in that motherly, patient manner. "Our actions were a precaution, a plan set into effect by Sans's own choice." She frowned, looking down at the little monster collapsed in Papyrus's arms. She reached out, tenderly stroking the smooth skull of bone. "Granted...I doubt very much that Sans was aware that we were anticipating putting that very plan into action today, but...that is beside the point." She met your gaze, honest and sincere. "Simply know that Sans gave his consent to this...treatment a long time ago. While he may be a little upset with us when he wakes, it is far better than the alternative."

You blinked, feeling lost. "I...I don't understand."

"MY BROTHER, DESPITE BEING A VERY WEAK MONSTER, HAS A RATHER IMPRESSIVE AMOUNT OF MAGIC." Papyrus gently eased Sans away from his chest, so that you could see his slack, almost peaceful expression. "WHEN HE GETS UPSET, WHICH IS RARE, HIS MAGIC TENDS TO EXPAND AND...BUBBLE? IF THAT MAKES SENSE."

"I-It builds i-inside him," Alphys stuttered, joining in on the explanation as she carefully recapped the syringe. "H-He basically g-generate more m-magic than h-his small f-form can sustain safely...a-and that c-can result in a m-magic overload of s-sorts."

"Fatal?" you choked out. You suddenly felt very small.

Undyne shook her head. She looked a little paler than normal. Tired. "Nah. But it can really fuck him up pretty bad. Not to mention what it can do to _us_."

"When we first arrived on the surface," Asgore continued, "Sans suffered a rather...violent attack of nerves. We still have no explanation as to the cause, but it resulted in some frightening events that laid Sans up in bed for a week, and Undyne and Papyrus both sustained minor injuries."

"Sans had been devastated," Toriel whispered. "He gave no reason why he lost control like he did, but he assisted Alphys in creating a sedative calibrated specifically to him, so that, should the need arise-"

"We could knock the little punk out in a manner of seconds," Undyne finished.

You looked between each monster; Papyrus and Toriel kneeling on the living room carpet, Sans in their tender hold; Alphys beside them, syringe still in hand; Undyne standing at the wayside, looking tense, but not too tense; and Asgore, looking at you with such imploring sadness, like he was afraid you would take offense by what they had done. And you _had_. You had taken _major_ offense, in that you thought they had _violated_ Sans in some way. Come to find out, you were the one in the wrong here. They had simply been taking the initiative in a plan _Sans_ had come up with himself. As a means of protecting his family from his own deteriorating emotions.

What. The. _Hell._

You allowed your legs to fold under you, dropping down into a cross-legged sit on your side of the living room, head falling into your hands as you blushed feriously. "Ah, shit. Shit, shit, _shit_. I'm sorry guys. I...I-I totally thought you just-" You sighed, looking back up with a helpless apology written in your features. "This is all so fucked up."

Papyrus, that adorable little cinnamon bun, merely smiled at you like you hadn't just been screaming at him, and everyone else in general, literally a minute ago. "YOU HAVE NO REASON TO APOLOGIZE, HUMAN JOE. YOUR ANGER ON MY BROTHER'S BEHALF SHOWS THAT YOU CARE WHAT HAPPENS TO HIM. AND THAT IS MUCH MORE THAN CAN BE SAID OF A LOT OF HUMANS WE HAVE MET HERE ON THE SURFACE."

Wow, really? If you were a _good_ example of humanity, what kind of assholes had these poor monsters been dealing with?

Your shoulders slumped. "Thanks, Papyrus, but..." You looked up at Asgore with a wince. "I really just overstepped my authority here. I didn't have a right to say that kin of shit, and...Aw jeez, did I really just yell at a _king?_ "

Asgore released a low chuckle. It was a nice sound, the kind of laugh that makes you smile in turn. "You would not be the first," he smiled. "And your outburst was not unwarranted. We should have warned you in advance, but we feared Sans would figure out our intentions and try to evade our help."

"When was all this decided?" you asked, just out of curiosity.

"Sh-Shortly after Sans st-stabbed you this m-morning," Alphys answered. "It...W-We've seen Sans's 'overload' s-symptoms before, a-and all the signs were there. A-Aggression. Agitation. H-Hypersensitivity. S-Spaciness. I t-texted Undyne just before I i-invited you down into m-my lab."

You frowned. "Why did you wait so long? If you knew he was edging toward a breakdown, why didn't you just administer the sedative earlier? Before he stressed himself out too much?"

Toriel hummed sadly. "Alphys needed both I and Asgore present, in case Sans lashed out unintentionally. We, as boss monsters, harbor enough magic between the two of us to keep Sans's power contained should the need arise. However, with the meeting in effect, and a very important one at that, we were unable to come home early without jeopardizing our relations with humanity."

"Yeah, you jerks can be real snobby when it comes to your little get togethers," Undyne growled. She quieted at a look from Toriel, as the queen carefully continued.

"It was decided that Alphys would observe Sans from a distance to ensure that he was keeping calm until we could return home to assist."

"B-But what w-we didn't c-count on," Alphys interjected, "w-was you, J-Joe."

"...Me?"

"Y-You forced S-Sans and I to r-reconcile over...that incident. You were...You were a-amazing. You s-somehow managed to m-make him face h-his issues he had with me, and y-yet helped h-him remain c-calm. It was so c-cool!"

You blushed. "I, uh...Gee. I didn't realize that was such a big deal, I mean-" You cut yourself off, a sudden through rushing through your mind. It was horrific. "Wait...What if Sans had lost his shit then? What would have happened?"

Undyne gave a low huff. "We'd have probably come home to an incinerated house, a dead girlfriend, a dead child, and a dead, nosy human. Not to mention a drained skeleton who probably would have lost his fucking mind from the guilt you pushed him to!"

"U-Undyne!"

"Well, it's true!" Undyne glared at you, her sudden hostility taking you by surprise. "We were handling Sans just fine before you got here, sunshine, and then you showed up and it all went to shit!"

Toriel stood, looking both frightened and upset. "Undyne, that is enough."

Asgore seemed to agree. "There is no reason to fight over something that did not happen."

"The hell there ain't!" Undyne hissed. She shoved a taloned finger in your direction. "This human was trouble the minute she showed up! We had this covered! We didn't need someone poking into our business!"

Oh. Oh, yup, you were official pissed off now. You squared your shoulders, glaring back at Undyne with equal fury.

"You had it covered, huh?" you laughed mockingly. "Yeah, right; and I suppose that's why Sans felt the need to walk out in front of my damn car!" You were shaking in rage. "I don't know what that means where you come from, but here that means someone just tried to kill themselves! Oh, yeah, that sounds like you guys were really doing a good job!" You were saying too much. Your brain begged with you to stop, before you might say something you wouldn't be able to take back, but your emotions were on overdrive. You were majorly stressed out, what could you say. "And what the hell do you get off blaming me for all of this?! Alphys told me about your little plan, of sneaking up and catching Sans off guard; tying him to a fucking table of horrors!"

Undyne's eye widened, and you realized she looked unnerved. She looked...It snapped into place.

"Oh! Great! You didn't even tell the others that, did you?! How you were going to force him through something that he was obviously scared out of his mind about! Tell them! Tell them how you two were going to-to-!" Your anger suddenly died in your chest, replaced with a burning, searing anguish. You had never been a terribly good bad-ass. You could come across as strong and intimidating, but only for so long. Your emotions ran to deep, and you where never one to truly get angry and stay angry. So, as your true feelings of hurt and confusion caught up with you, you lurched back into something you were more comfortable with.

You fucking broke down and cried.

"I-I'm s-sorry!" you sobbed, your head back in your hands, eyes shedding big salty tears. "I don't have a r-right! I don't have a right t-to say stuff like that to you, b-but I-" Another sob broke your voice, but you continued, determined to say your piece. "I care s-so fucking m-much, and I don't know why! I've only been h-here for a d-day, and you all f-feel like family to me, and I can't explain it and I feel s-so ashamed and I should have n-never have come here and-"

You were suddenly enveloped in the boniest hug you had ever experienced. It slammed into you almost painfully, and had you been less of an ass, you might have seen it coming. Papyrus must have passed Sans off to Toriel, because as you stared in shock over his shoulder as he embraced you, you could see the little skeleton curled up in the queens arms. Papyrus held you, rocked you, like he had for his brother only a few moments before. His voice, when it came, was far softer than what you had found he used on a regular basis.

"Human, please...Maybe we are all a little at fault? I...haven't been there for my brother like I should have been. if what you say about him wanting to...to d-die is true...Please...We cannot afford to war with each other, not when Sans's life is at stake. If you really do care for him, and us, you and Undyne will work together to help him. please...Please...don't argue anymore..."

Who could say no to something like that?

Your teary eyes found Undyne, meeting her gaze. She looked about as guilt-ridden as you felt. It was at that moment that you realized the true Undyne that lay beneath all that rage and muscle. Undyne was scared. Scared for Sans. Scared for what might have happened. Scared for what might still happen...

Just like you.

Shit. Just how many times could you mess up in literally one afternoon?!

You carefully disentangled yourself from Papyrus, giving him a wet smile to let him know you weren't disregarding him. You climbed to your feet and closed the distance between you and Undyne. You didn't even try to hide your tears. let her think you were a fucking wimp; sincerity was your thing, and you were going to stick with it by thunder.

"I shouldn't have said any of that. I...can't take it back, obviously, since words don't work that way, but..." You sigh. "Look, I know I've caused a lot more bad than good since I got here. I can totally leave, if that's what you want, and I'd completely understand. But...please...Let me help Sans. I...i want to help him so badly; help all of you help him. I can't just walk away from this...I can't..."

Undyne looked uncomfortable. She didn't offer any words of apology for what she had said to you, not even trying to take it back - maybe because she didn't know how - but she wasn't actively punching you in the face so...

"What could you possibly do to help?" she asked evenly. Not barbed, but not quite friendly either.

"S-She's a psychologist," Alphys piped up nervously.

"Uh," you were quick to correct, "n-not a real one, but...I took classes in psych. Almost got my degree in it."

Undyne didn't look impressed. "So?"

"So," you said carefully, "I might be able to use what I do know to create a...treatment of sorts for Sans. I'm not saying I can fix everything, and even if I could it would probably take years...But anything's got to be better than letting stuff like this keep happening." Your expression twisted in sorrow. "I swerved.'

"...What?" Undyne blinked, confused.

"I swerved," you repeated. "When Sans stepped out in front of my car, I swerved so I wouldn't hit him. Still did, obviously, but if it had been anyone else..." You didn't want to even consider it. You turned away from Undyne, instead imploring the other monsters in the room. "I told doctor Alphys here that I could give it a shot. I don't have to live here if that's a problem, but please, don't push this chance away. Alphys told me no human psychologists will see monsters...There really are no other options."

There was a long, pregnant pause, and then Toriel choked out, "We will not make you leave. You have a home with us, Jocasta Taylor, even if that means the occasional dispute." She sent Undyne a look. "Sans is very dear to all of our hearts...If there is any way you can better this situation...Please, help us."

You had never felt more needed in your life.


	14. Get Your Ducks in Order

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for all your comments and well wishes. I am doing fine, in fact, I've picked some of my old hobbies up again. Outside of writing I play the violin (not very well, but whatever), and I find music soothes me a bit.
> 
> Hey, just a sort of tipping of the hat to Zeragii, another writer here on AO3 (and DA). She promoted my story early on (and made that beautiful illustration a ways back for Written on the Scars of Our Hearts. ANYWAY, she just started a series of her own, and Undertale story that I guess is going to be a three story series? I read the first part, "Fragile Promises" and Holy HELL it was awesome. So, yeah. Just wanted to point some people her way, just like she did for me. If you like great character interactions and angst (specifically for Sans) she's like the QUEEN of it. That and check out her art and Undertale comics. It's amazing!
> 
> https://www.deviantart.com/zeragii
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeragii/pseuds/Zeragii
> 
> Peace!

You had never felt more needed in your life.

It was unanimously agreed that if Sans was to remain free on the surface, you were the monsters' best and only choice of action. Needless to say, you were both grateful and scared out of your fucking mind. It wasn't like you were all that skilled in psychology; you hadn't even made it to graduation for heaven's sake, but you _had_ always had a rather impressive memory, and just because you hadn't finished your degree didn't mean you hadn't done some learning on your own, and kept up with your field of interest. You felt far from prepared, but your willingness and caring were what was really going to make this work...

Or, so you hoped.

This was for Sans. So that he didn't end up trapped back underground or in a facility somewhere, tucked away so that he wouldn't be a danger to the monster cause or humanity as a whole. Looking at him, you had a hard time imagining him being a threat. Yeah, he had shoved a bone through your hand, but it wasn't like he could wreck havoc on the entire human race...Or, at least, not that you could fathom. A 'magic overload' didn't exactly sound good, and going by how anxious Sans's state had made the other monsters, you had a feeling maybe you should be a bit more concerned than you were. But all you could find yourself worrying about was Sans himself. Here he stood, in the middle of his own crises, with no available help and no way to fix things on his own. No one to reach out to. If the government found out he was a threat, he would be either forced to move back under ground, or move away from where he could do potential harm. That wasn't a mercy; that was a death sentence. You hadn't known Sans long, but you could see it in his eyes. Being separated from Papyrus would kill him. Being made to leave the surface would kill him. If not at his own hands, then by loss of all will to live. A loss of hope.

It was just that plain and simple.

So, in reality, you weren't just saving these monsters some easier management of an ill family member; you were saving a life.

God, what were you getting yourself into?

Once the whole drama in the living room had blown over, and you and a reluctant Undyne had apologized to one another, Papyrus had carefully lifted Sans into his arms and carried the smaller upstairs to bed for the second night in a row. Alphys said Sans probably wouldn't be conscious again until the next morning, which, honestly, was a good thing. First off, he needed to calm down, secondly - you needed a little time to do a little brushing up.

Alphys was kind enough to let you use one of her many computers down in her lab. It took you almost twenty minutes to get used to the setup, seeing as much of the computer's software and function-ability was some sort of melded amalgamate between a Mac, a PC, and something completely alien that you could only guess was monster technology. Thankfully, Alphys stayed nearby to assist, and by the time Toriel was calling you all for supper you felt you had gained a fair idea of how to proceed with Sans in a way that was both safe, and, fingers crossed, helpful. 

Papyrus, understandably, didn't come down for supper, and Undyne had to bring the skeleton his dinner, seeing as Papyrus didn't want to leave his brother's side just yet. Frisk had rejoined you all, and they had been updated on what had happened. They looked so sad that you had given in and given them a big hug, their little arms wrapping around your waist in return. Dinner was a quiet affair, low mumbles, generally not focused on Sans for the time being. You learned that the meeting had indeed gone well, that headway had been made in monster/human relations, thought slowly. You'd never cared much for politics, so you sort of zoned out after a while.

Dinner was good. Some sort of pot roast, though it was a little bit saltier than most you had ever eaten, but good. Mashed potatoes were one of your favorites, and you piled it on as much as was socially acceptable. You were thin; a few extra carbs wouldn't hurt, and you seriously needed some comfort food.

When you were all finished, and you had helped clean up from the meal, you headed back down into Alphys' lab to gather together what you had found and bring it up to show the others. You had printed quite a few papers, having always been one of those weird people who actually liked holding what your read in your hands, rather than reading it off a screen. You probably just killed, like, fifty trees, but at the moment you aren't all that concerned. You'll send some tree seeds to the local college as compensation. Plant a garden.

You trudged back up the basement steps and back into Toriel's part of the house, Alphys chattering excitedly about...something at your heels. You're not really paying attention, but you have enjoyed her company. Now that you're not so pissed at her for what she and Undyne did to Sans, you're finding the two of you actually have a lot in common. You look forward to hanging out with her, on a later date. Undyne...You're still pretty pissed with her.

Everyone's in the living room, minus Sans who's still knocked out upstairs, and Frisk, who has since been sent to bed since it's getting late. Papyrus has managed to tear himself away from his brother's side, which is good; out of all of them Papyrus's feedback would be the most deciding factor in what you ended up doing to help Sans. It was his brother after all. You waltz in, arms loaded with paper, the monsters all cocking their heads in interest. You kneel down on the carpet, laying everything out before you so you can try and get your thoughts in order. It's a vain attempt at organization, but hey, you tried.

"Okay...So, I did a bit of research, just to refresh my memory a little, but I think I've decided on a method of therapy that would work well with Sans, based off of what I've seen and what you've told me." You started shifting through the papers. "Papyrus, you said that Sans sleeps a lot?"

The skeleton nodded. "YES. MY BROTHER HAS ALWAYS BEEN A BIT OF A LAZYBONES, BUT SINCE WE ARRIVED ON THE SURFACE...HE HAS SLEPT DURING THE DAY A LOT MORE."

You wince. "Well, it might not just be laziness. People with severe depression are known to sleep a lot, because sleeping is easier than dealing with the waking world."

The monsters all looked incredibly guilty.

"You mean...all this time, he's just been trying to cope?" Undyne murmured.

You nodded. "It's very possible. Now, when someone has been depressed in the past, a doctor may have prescribed antidepressants as a means of help. These work through the effects depression has on the chemical messengers in the brain. In depression, these chemical messengers have often become run down, lowering mood and energy levels, and disturbing sleep and appetite. Toriel, you mentioned that Sans has been eating very little, didn't you?"

"Yes. I have steadily grown concerned; he eats so rarely now, and I cannot seem to encourage him."

"And you said Sans suffers from nightmares, Papyrus?"

"YES. TERRIBLE ONES, THOUGH HE WILL NOT TELL ME WHY, OR WHAT THEY ARE ABOUT."

"Some nights we can hear him from all the way next door," Undyne added, shaking her head. "It always sounds...pretty intense."

You frown, nodding again. "That sounds about right. Well, correcting these brain chemicals might take time, but most people experience improvements in six to eight weeks, with humans anyway. With monsters it might be a little different. I mean, Sans doesn't have a physical brain, I take it. Although antidepressants generally work well in reducing depression, they-"

"NO."

You froze, mouth hanging open. "U-Uh...what?"

"NO," Papyrus repeated, not unkindly. "NO MEDICATIONS. SANS WON'T...HE WON'T LIKE THAT. MY BROTHER SEEMS TO HAVE AN...APPREHENSION? FOR ALL THINGS INVOLVING DOCTORS AND MEDICINE."

"An apprehension? You mean like...a phobia?"

"SOMETHING LIKE THAT, YES."

Your frown deepened. "Do you...know why that is?" You had a nasty, heavy feeling settling in your chest at the idea of Sans cringing back from some doctor's outstretched hand. A lot of people had a fear of hospitals and doctors, but Sans didn't come across as someone who would...be like that. Which left you wondering what encounters with doctors had affected his opinion of them so drastically.

You suddenly realized why there had been so much secrecy in drugging Sans earlier. The only reason he hadn't flipped out over the needle was that he had been far too distraught to see it coming. That must have been hard for him, having helped to concoct something he knew might be used on him that he had a legit fear of. It was sort of bad ass now that you considered it. In a sad, sad, sad way.

Papyrus shook his head. "HE HAS ALWAYS BEEN THAT WAY. AS FAR BACK AS I CAN REMEMBER."

"Hm. Alright then." You crumbled up the small stack of papers you had printed on medication choices and threw it over your shoulder. "Then we'll just have to rely on therapy. Antidepressants aren't a permanent cure anyway, their affects continue only so long as you keep taking the pills. A doctor could continue to prescribe antidepressants for months, or even years. And, well, I'm not exactly authorized to prescribe them myself. I had been planning to ask one of my old professors - he's a doctor, and maybe we cold have gotten them that way, but now we needn't worry. Good. Okay..." You surveyed the options you had left to you. "Many people prefer to use other ways to prevent depression, means that don't involve medication. I haaaaaave...." You shifted through the papers, looking for a specific one you had thought you had set aside. "Ah! Here it is. It's called Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy, or MBCT for short."

Alphys eyes lit up. "Th-That sounds p-promising."

"It is," you assured, scanning the printout with your eyes. "It's a way of helping Sans with what he's going through, and teach him to become more aware of himself, so he can prevent depression affecting him in the future. In fact, he'll be doing most of the work, I'll just be guiding him through the motions." You deflated slightly. "It's...not going to be easy. He's going to need all our support. This is going to take time, and there are going to be days when he gets frustrated or discouraged, and we need to be there for him when that happens. We need to be patient, and kind, and, above all else, hopeful."

Asgore nodded, speaking for the first time since you had come in. "We will do all we can, Miss Taylor."

This next part was hard. "Um, there's...one more thing."

"YES?" Papyrus was very attentive. Man, he was adorable, even if he did look sort of like a Halloween decoration. "WHAT IS IT?"

"Sans admitting to jumping out in front of my care," you started slowly, "has me worried." And by the somber looks that fell on all the faces around you proved they were too. "That...isn't a good sign. I mean, lots of people think about hurting themselves or killing themselves. Hell, I mean, even I have thought of it at least _once_ in my life. I never would have carried through, but still." That was hard to admit. "But there's a hell of a difference between thinking about jumping out in front of a car and actually...trying it." You frowned. "If he were human, he'd be put in a special hospital, just until he was in a better frame of mind. Since that's not an option, we're going to have to be extra mindful of his whereabouts, the things he says, or doesn't say, and, perhaps most importantly, they things that we say ourselves. A harsh word, or saying something that tips him back into that hopeless, self-harmful state is a bad call. We need to monitor what we say, to make sure we don't wound him further."

Everyone nodded firmly, and you noticed Undyne's jaw was clamped shut very tightly.

"Do...and of you have any ideas why he would want to do something like that? I mean, you all obviously care for him very much; it's not like he was trying to...escape an abusive relationship or anything. Is there...anything you can think of?"

Sad shakes of heads all 'round. You sighed.

"Well, we know he's prone to scratching. If you see him do it, gently either distract him or gently remind him to stop. If he gets frustrated, just accept it." This was going to be one hell of a thing. Poor Sans. Poor all of you. "He needs to stop sneaking off to get drunk; that'll only make things worse."

"He can't leave the house anyway," Undyne piped up. "What with the band on his ankle. It lowers the level of his magic, so no blooping off into space or whatever the fuck he does."

Alphys nodded. "A-And, again, even i-if he does go outside, the a-alarm will be tripped and I-i'll be notified, b-both in my l-lab and on m-my phone."

"Still," you press, "we need to keep a close eye on him. If he says he's not hungry, Toriel, leave things to me. I'd rather he get frustrated with me than with any of you. You're his family, and from here on, I'm his therapist. Assuming he's willing to go along with all of this. Deal?"

"Deal" they all say in return.

You sighed, relieved. "Alright. Good...Good, um...Okay. So, when do you want me to get started? I mean, obviously I can't start now, but-"

"A-As soon as p-possible m-might be best," Alphys interjected shyly. "Sans i-is...H-He'll be u-upset about what h-happened today. H-Having something t-to turn to...m-might help h-him."

"So when he wakes up," you decided. "I'll talk to him. I already sort of mentioned how I could help him, and he seemed open enough...But I don't want to proceed until I'm sure he's alright with it, and is aware of what might happen if he...refuses."

The others all nodded, and you knew the time for talking had almost come to an end. The time for action all depended on Sans, and his willingness to let you help.

* * *

 It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out you'd be sleeping on the couch again that night. Which was fine, and you certainly weren't going to complain. You'd get along just fine roughing it out like a hobo in their living room, with a borrowed pair of Alphys' pajamas while your own were thrown in the wash, courtesy of Papyrus. Undyne let you borrow her alarm clock, a little grudgingly, and you set it to wake you up at six. You needed to be up before Sans, and have your mind in the right frame before tackling this whole thing. Papyrus even brought you upstairs, for the first time since you had arrived at the monster residence, and gave you a small tour.

 

If the downstairs of Toriel's house was ill-lit and cramped, upstairs was even more so. There were almost no windows, and the thin hall was un-carpeted, cold, and unfriendly. The old, darkly stained wood creaked beneath your feet, and only the knowledge that Toriel, a monster who probably weighed about five times your weight, used the same route every day kept you calm. If it could hold her, you certainly weren't going to fall down through the floor-ceiling combo. A single, bare bulb with a brass bead chain was attached to the hall ceiling, giving it a very attic-ish feeling to it, and even then it was one of those wimpy lights that only made the darkness look a bit more orange.

Sans's room was directly to the left, first room on that short stretch of hallway, just after the stairs. Papyrus said the lock had been broken since they moved in, so, when the time was right, you were instructed to go right on ahead in. Papyrus assured you Sans would most likely be too weak to be of any threat, no matter how unintentional, and so a light rap of the knuckles before entering would suffice. You agreed. The tall skeleton then showed you his room, in case you might need him, and then you had all gone to bed. Asgore left for wherever he lived, but promised to be back sometime next afternoon to check on Sans and...everything in general.

One night on the couch had left you stiff. Two nights...You were probably going to look like Quasimodo in the morning. All you needed was Notre Dome and some big-ass bells to ring. You tossed and turned a lot, unable to sleep as you rehearsed in your head, over and over, what you were going to say to Sans in the morning. You regretted not taking up Toriel or Papyrus's offer to go in with you, but like a numbnut you'd declined. You figured Sans would be more open if it was just you and him, without familiar faces hanging over him like kind, well-meaning, but smothering, vultures. Even Papyrus, you noticed, tended to hover; and Sans was so short it must feel as though everyone were looming over him at times.

Sometime around one in the morning you fell asleep. And even then you were pretty sure Sans was on your mind in your dreams. Not...in a...weird way. It was just...you were so damn nervous. What if you couldn't help him? What if he refused your offer? What if he shoved a bone into you again? In something more vital than your hand??? He'd already sort of opened up to you, outside on the lawn, but he didn't really have any reason to trust you. Other than that you saved his life. But, if that was a suicide attempt, wouldn't he sort of hate you for stopping him? For not crushing his poor little body to dust?

You felt sick.

Either way, when Undyne's alarm clock went off at six, you arose from the pile of blankets Alphys had given you like the poster child for the undead. Your eyes felt heavy and bloated. Your head felt like mush. Your brain had probably liquefied and leaked out your ears onto your pillow; that would explain your complete lack of helpful consciousness, until finally you forced yourself to sit up. You sat, miserable, on the edge of the couch for a few minutes, blinking, rubbing away sleepy seeds from the corners or your eyes, and generally trying to force yourself to wakefulness.

You had about an hour before the time Alphys had predicted Sans would wake. For someone who, as Frisk had said, supposedly 'never wakes up before eleven', Alphys had predicted that Sans would find himself very much awake in the early hours of the morning, the sedative having kept him under against his will. You weren't sure that was exactly the way it worked for humans, but monsters were a total different constitution of rules and genetic make-up. Who were you to depute evolution like an asshole?

You made your way into the kitchen and made yourself a cup of coffee. Huh. Two days in and this place was already starting to feel like home. Toriel was kind, and had told you to help yourself, and you did, though you would only do so moderately. There was a lot of mouths to feed under this roof, and you'd be a 'monster' of a different kind if you swung in and ate all their hard earned food. Standing there, stirring your brew, you thought back to all the times you had made coffee at home. You had always made an extra cup for your mother, for her to grab on her way off to work. A tiny, itty bitty twinge of regret ran through you. You wouldn't have called it homesickness, but...it was something. Something uncomfortable. You remembered your phone, smashed on the highway where you had run into Sans, crushed beyond repair. Your mother had surely tried calling by now. Probably multiple times.

You wondered if she missed you.

If she was worried, or had already shrugged your disappearance off.

You hadn't even left a note explaining where you were going...

You shook the thoughts from your head, refusing to let those depressive pondering drag you down. You needed to be positive. If not for your sake, than for everyone else's. For Sans. With that, you slurped down your coffee, extra sugar - because, god, you needed that boost - and then started your way up the stairs.

You stood outside Sans's closed door like an idiot, your eyes wixed on Undyne's alarm clock, which you had childishly brought with you. You weren't going to walk through that door until you hit Alphys' predicted waking time for Sans. And, even then, you might give him a minute. You did so, and, after a few generous moments, you thought you could here the sound of shifting covers. You took a deep breath, steadying youself.

This was it.

 

 


	15. Seal the Deal, and Make It Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I posted two chapters in one frick'n day???! WHAT?!
> 
> Yeah, was feeling in a writery mood.

This was it.

Heart pounding, you raised your clenched, sweaty hand up to the door and, just as Papyrus had suggested, gave a couple soft raps with your knuckles. All noise from within the room stopped, and you could almost picture the skeleton inside staring in your direction, fighting with his, undoubtedly, still very polluted thoughts. You've never been given a sedative for any reason, but it was your understanding that it could leave a person feeling pretty groggy.

You waited a full thirty seconds before rapping again, just a fraction louder, but at the very same speed. You didn't speak. Let Sans wonder who was knocking. If he knew it was you, he might not let you in; if he thought it was Papyrus, or even Frisk or Toriel, he'd be more likely to let you pass through into his room.

After an excruciating few moments, you heard a weak and tired voice mumble from within.

"come in?"

And you did.

Sans's room was almost pitch black. Seeing as it was still before sunrise, and the fact that Sans's blinds or curtains were drawn, there was almost absolutely no light to speak of except that which silhouetted you in the doorway. Or, well...That wasn't completely true. After a moment your eyes adjusted to the darkness, and you were able to recognize the vague Sans-y shade across from you, two bright points of lights staring out at you from two deep, dark sockets. It was...actually pretty fucking creepy, but you had been working yourself sick over all this shit all night, and you weren't about to get cold feet now.

The skeleton appeared to be standing, close to a small bed. He was leaning on it, however, and rather heavily at that; like it was possible he was having trouble keeping upright. That worried you, but you supposed it was possibly the sedative still working through his system. Still.

"w-what are you...what do you want?" Sans asked, cautious. Wary.

"I...wanted to talk to you about something," you replied truthfully.

"at god-forsaken in the morning?"

You shrug. "May I come in?"

Sans stared a moment longer, before he gave a tired shrug. "yeah, whatever. you do what you want. i don't really care."

Warning bells went off in your head. That flippancy wasn't exactly a good sign; it meant he was feeling tired and irritable, possibly with himself. Self-anger was never a good combo with suicidal thoughts. Even if Sans wasn't strictly suicidal at the moment, those little irritations could build. Him stepping out in front of another car wasn't something you wanted to be the end result of all this.

You stepped further into the room, and then, in a show of trust, you closed the door, plunging the two of you into pitch blackness. All you could see was his eye lights, two twin dots that flickered a moment as he blinked. You waited for him to speak, and he waited for you to speak; but there were few people in the world who could out-patience you when you where feeling particularly stubborn. Like now. You stared across the room at each other through the inky blackness. You wondered if Sans could see you. Even if her couldn't, you were sure he wouldn't admit it.

Finally, Sans gave a soft, humorless chuckle. "shutting yourself up in a dark room with a monster, huh? you're either incredibly brave, or incredibly foolish."

"And you," you returned evenly, "are leaning against that bedpost. You're either trying to look nonchalant and failing, or your almost too weak to stand."

"...h-heh."

You softened your tone, keeping right where you are. "We can turn on a light; I just thought you'd want a bit of privacy. What I have to say is...rather difficult, both for me to say, and probably you to hear. So, why don't we stop playing the intimidation game and relax a little. Tell me where the light switch is so I can turn it on, and you climb back in bed. Before you collapse to the floor."

A pause, a long one, and then Sans said, "the light switch is just to the right of the door, on the wall."

"Thank you," you breathe. You slide your hand against the wall, finding the switch easily, and a moment later you can see everything clearly.

Sans looks...half dead. And not just because he's literally a living skeleton. He's hunched, nearly all his weight balanced against the bedpost as he weakly stands there, looking generally miserable and un-trusting. Your heart sinks a little, seeing as the two of you had hit it off so well yesterday on the lawn. Then again, he probably thought you had a hand in drugging him to unconsciousness. You could see him forgiving his family, but not you, at least not right away. That, and now you knew all about his...issue. That was sure to make him anxious and uncertain. Those shadows under his sockets were so much more pronounced now, even more than before, if that were at all possible. Even from your place on the opposite side of the room you could see him shaking slightly.

"Uh...I held up my end of the bargain. I turned on the light. You going to get back in bed?"

Not at first, apparently. He waited a full minute before he finally moved, and you were pretty sure that was only because Sans was so exhausted. Even then, he didn't lie down or get under the covers. You weren't going to push him to; it wasn't worth the fight. You glanced left and right, looking for somewhere to sit, only to find that Sans's room was discouragingly bare. Undeterred, you crossed your ankles and then plopped down onto the floor, legs criss-cross-apple-sauced. 

Sans blinked at you blearily, obviously thrown off by your behavior. Or...Well. He might not be fully himself yet, you realize, but there's a sharp sense of focus slowly melding into his expression, and that goads you to keep going, or to at least start things off. He was with it enough to begin, but not with it enough to try and evade. Perfect.

"So," you begin. "Uh, how you feeling?"

"...like shit."

"...Fair enough."

Sans settled into a similar sit on his mattress, hands settling in his lap. "what you want from me, lady? i'm tired, so...can we skip the niceties?"

That was fine with you.

You sighed. "Okay. Remember, yesterday, when I told you I would try to help you? When I said I once took a class once, in this sort of thing and...all that. You remember?"

The skeleton nodded slowly.

"Well, after...last night..." You sighed. "Last night you really scared the people who love you. They want to help you, but they don't know how."

"m'fine," Sans protested weakly.

"You're obviously not," you frown. "Sans, you walked out in front of my car. On _purpose_. Papyrus says you haven't been sleeping; Toriel says you haven't been eating. Hell, even Undyne's noticed something's up." He winces at the blue monster's name, and you quickly move on. "They told me you've been...scratching. Not taking care of yourself. Leaving and getting drunk." You let sincerity flood your voice."Sans, I know you're hurting. It's not all that hard to see. But this...this isn't the way to deal with this, man."

Sans muttered something under his breath you couldn't hear, then louder he said, "so, what? i'm broken and you're the one who's supposed to magically fix me. hate to tell you this, lady, but that's not really how the world works."

"Hm. Mind telling me how it does work then?" you challenged.

He huffed. "not up for it. but i know that ain't how it works."

You frown and rub your knees. It's...actually kind of cold in Sans's room. Then again, you doubt it bothers a monster without skin or nerves. "Alright. I'll give you that. This world sucks sometimes-"

"understatement of the century."

"- _but_ ," you re-interrupt, "that doesn't mean you just shrug life off and give up. I said I would offer you something to try. You said you were lost, so I'm offering. Sans, do you know, do you have any idea what might happen if word got out about your little..." You struggled for the right word. "Problem," you settled with.

"you mean me being a total mental case, and also magically strong enough to level ebott city to the ground?" Sarcasm. Fun. "yeah. i know."

Annoyance bubbled inside you, but you pushed it down. Patience, Joe. Patience. That's what Sans needs. "Then you know that you could be sent back down into the underground. Or sent out into some remote part of the country. Or...You know." This hurt to say. "They might feel the need to...put you away."

"...is that a threat?" he grumbles softly.

"No." Oh, god, no. "It's a warning. From someone who cares."

Sans gives a weak chuckle, eyes not meeting yours. "an' that's just what i don't get. why _do_ you care?" He looks up, and shit, are those tears gathering in his sockets?? "why do you care whether some asshole monster walks out in front of a car and gets dusted? what do you care if i end up locked up in some loony bin somewhere? why?" His gaze is intense.

And that's a good question.

Why do you care so much?

Why does Sans's well-being all at once derail your life, and become almost the very thing you're willing to live for?

"Because, unlike a lot of humans up here," you say slowly, "I have compassion. That's one of the things you're made up of, isn't it? Then you'd understand. It can make you do some pretty crazy shit. Besides, I've always been a sucker for little wounded critters."

He bristles a little at that. "m'not little. m'not a critter either."

You smirk, leaning forward teasingly. He sounds annoyed, but there's something else behind that frown. Something you recognize. Amusement? "No. But you are little." Your grin softened. "And you are wounded, somehow? Deep inside?"

Sans looks away again, sort of curling inward. That's really all the answer you need, but he still manages to breath out a small breath and respond. "h-heh...something like that."

You nod, trying to show you understand. "You're lost. You want to find your way back, but you don't know how. You're friends and family want to help you back, but _they_ don't know how." You let your shoulders slump."I'm not saying anything I do will work, I'm not promising some miracle fix, but isn't your life worth a try at the very least?"

He shrugs weakly. "...i guess."

"Yeah, well, there are four other monsters, plus a king and two humans who think you're totally worth the effort." You stand, brushing imaginary dirt from your butt. You move to sit on the bed next to him, and you're pleased when he doesn't flinch away or glare at you; just sort of accepts your break of his personal space. "I sorta promised your family I would try to help you. If you're...willing that is. I'm not going to force you into anything you don't want to try. Just...know the alternative isn't...isn't the best."

He blinks again, before his eye lights shift down to his lap. He's gripping the sheets beneath him like he's hanging off the edge of a precipice. Afraid to fall over.

"Come on, buddy. You're not going to make a liar out of me, are you?"

Slowly, he raises his eyes again, meeting yours with a resigned sigh. "wha'you gonna do?" he slurs tiredly. Giving in.

You take a deep breath. Relief floods your system, but you manage to hide it in favor of 'professionalism', what ever the hell that means. "You seem to be suffering from a number of things, the most prominent of which, going by what the others have told me, seems to be...d-depression." You clear your throat. "Depression is a very common problem, and, while a difficult obstacle to deal with, it can be overcome. Something like twenty percent of adults get depressed at some point during their lives, so while I assure you what you are feeling is very painful, and I won't minimize it, you...you aren't alone, Sans."

Sans curls further into himself. "...then why do i feel like i am?" he whispered.

Your heart sank. You hesitate, then decide 'fuck it' and shift closer so that your sitting right beside him on the bed, so close you're almost touching. The mattress dips a little at your combined weight, leaning him almost into your shoulder. He stiffens a moment, before relaxing slightly.

"Depression involves both biological changes in the way the brain works and psychological changes," you continue kindly, "the way we think and feel. Normally, a doctor would probably combine medical treatment - usually some sort of antidepressants -  along with basic psychological practices, but...your brother told me you aren't too fond of anything...medicinal."

The skeleton nods slowly, not meeting your gaze again. Like he's being scolded and expects a blow of some kind. 

What the fuck?

"Okay," you nod in turn. "Then we'll just stick with MBCT then."

Sans's brow furrowed. "...mbct? th'hell is that?"

"It stands for Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy. It's a form of awareness therapy, to help people find ways to accept themselves and learn to recognize and deflect negative thoughts and emotions. Whatever caused your depression in the first place, the experience of depression itself, has a number of side effects. One of which is the possibility of you becoming depressed again."

"great."

"The purpose of MBCT is to improve your chance of preventing further depression in the future, by learning to cut it off and control it before it controls you. I can help you learn how to handle your thoughts and feelings in a healthier way. It's going to take a little hard work, but I really think we can do it. Together. Not just you and me, but with everyone's help."

"no medicine?" Sans double checked, like he was afraid there might be a catch. "no doctors?"

You shook your head. "Nope, none of that. I'll basically be coaching you on stuff, and you'll be doing all the actual healing. Self healing, I guess you could call it. No medicine or doctors whatsoever." That seemed to calm him a little. "I'm not saying this is going to be easy, or that it won't be uncomfortable, but it seems a small price to pay, when you consider your other options."

Sans frowns down at his crossed legs, thinking hard. The sedative has definitely worn off completely now. He still looks awful, but his sharp mind is clearly turning gears. After a short while he sighs, looking somehow all the smaller on the mattress.

"i...guess we can give it a shot." He shrugged. "i mean, what else could we try, right? nothing." He looks back up and fixes a painfully cheerful smile to his face. "guess my life is sorta in your hands, lady." He grinned. "be gentle."

"Pfft." You gave him a small shove, barely enough to move him at all. You stand up off the mattress and nod toward the door. "Then let's go get some breakfast. If we're starting your sessions today, you're going to want to be at your best. Food is fuel and all that shit." You rethink your plan. "On second thought, you stay in here." You forgot he's still shaky on his legs. Falling down the stairs sounds like a bad idea right now, given his condition. "I'll bring you something."

"wow, what service."

"Don't get used to it, Boney. Sit tight; be right back."

You head downstairs, feeling accomplished. Sans had agreed. He trusted you enough to agree. This was amazing progress!

You only hoped you could deliver.

.

.

.

You needed some more coffee.


	16. Let Me Lead You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been so busy, sorry. Got a new friend hanging around. Not a new boyfriend just...He's a nice guy. i'm a little reluctant to get close to someone after what happened with Chad the Bad (budum-tss), but he;s just so kind and sweet. He's helping me through a lot.
> 
> Sorry it took so long to get this out. A lot of the stuff in this story comes from a legit course/textbook/method-program, so, yeah.
> 
> On a lighter note, I see Zeragii on DA just opened commissions. I might ask her to do one for me for this story, a cover or something. She already did that one picture in the beginning of WOTSOOH, back before she was charging, and I think it'd be totally worth it to pay something for more.

Coffee.

The literally fucking nectar of the gods.

You'd cooked up a few boiled eggs and some toast, finishing just as Papyrus awoke. He met you on the stairs, coming down as you were going up, balancing two plates and two cups of coffee. You supposed that really short time job you'd had as a waitress in high school had really paid off.

"OH! HUMAN JOE!"

Why was his voice so loud?! You quickly shushed him, and he somehow managed to press his volume down into what for him must be a whisper. For you it'd be normal talking.

"I Was Wondering If You Had Made Any Progress With-" He paused, nodding meaningfully up toward his brother's room.

You smiled, arms starting to ache from the weight of the plates, however slight. "He said he'd let me try and help him, Papyrus," you informed him gently. "He's still kind of scared, and uncertain, but he's willing to try and get better. That's really all we can encourage at this stage."

Papyrus gave you the most grateful smile you had ever witnessed. "Well...You Have Gotten Far Further With Sans Than Any Of Us Have. You Must Be Doing Something Very Right."

Oh, God, you hope so.

"I'm going to get a little breakfast in him. Today we're going to start the program, slow and steady." You paused. "Why are you up so early?"

"Me? Oh, I Am Always Up With The Sun! I Have Never Been One To Loiter In Bed."

No. No, you suppose he wasn't.

"Well, uh, if you need me I'll be in Sans's room-" That sounded creepy as hell, but you knew Papyrus was too innocent to assume anything weird. "We won't stay up there all day, just until he's comfortable and feeling well enough to come down. He still looks like sh-Uh...Crap. he still looks like crap."

If Papyrus noticed your little crude almost-slip up, he didn't say anything. He merely nodded, and before you knew it you were again in the upstairs hall and rapping your knuckles softly against Sans's semi-closed bedroom door.

"come in?"

You entered, sweeping into the room with grace and closing the door softly with your foot as you balanced your way over to where Sans was still sitting on the bed. He certainly looked much more alert now, the dead, hopeless look replaced by interest and curiosity. His eye lights trailed from your face to the plates in your arms as you sidled down beside him.

"Okay," you informed. "I've got one boiled egg a piece, and two buttered toasts for each of us. I wasn't sure if you liked yours dark or golden brown, so I just went with what I do best." Golden brown, perfect and only slightly dark around the edges. "I'd have fried up some deli-sliced ham, but you guys' fridge is looking a little bare, and I didn't want to each up all your food in one meal."

"tori'll appreciate that," Sans chuckled. He looked mildly invested in the food you'd brought him, but you were starting to wonder if he was even up to eating. Then again, maybe he just wasn't giving his body a chance to tell him he was hungry. 

You tapped his plate with a long fingernail. "You think you can stomach this? I know eating isn't exactly your favorite pastime right now, but if we're gonna pull through this shit, I'm going to need you conscious. So, do your best, okay? You don't have to eat all of it. Eggs and toast are supposed to be good when you're not feeling well."

"heh. thanks, lady."

"You're very welcome."

The two of you eat in silence, you trying desperately not to eat like a ravenous wolf while Sans delicately picks away at his breakfast. By the time your done, he's eaten about half of it, and while your proud of him, you're pretty sure he's taken all he wants. Things are starting to get awkward again, so you decide maybe now it's time to start getting on the the business at hand. You'd studied up as much as you could on this, and it seemed the best way to go about helping Sans heal was by just...diving in and hoping for the best.

"So," you supply, leaning back and placing your empty plate on the bedside table. Sans's, still with some food on it, joins yours a few seconds after. "You want to get to this, or you think we can drag out feet a few more hours?"

Sans shrugs. "normally i like dragging my feet, but..." He sags slightly. "i'm getting sort of tired of fighting on my own."

Your heart twists, and you reach out and take on of his hands. It's only after you do so that your brain screams how much of an idiot you are. Sans could have stabbed another bone into your hand if he had wanted to. On the other hand, since he hadn't, you could only assume trust was slowly solidifying between you. You rubbed your thumb over his knuckles, watching him carefully. He seemed to relax a little.

"Alright. So. What we're going to be working on is changing the patterns of mind you've adapted over time. These patterns may have become a habit, and not all necessarily good habits either. We can only expect to succeed in making changes if we put time and effort into learning new skills that are going to help you in the long run. Make sense so far?"

"so far, yeah, i guess."

"Mm. This approach depends entirely on your willingness to do homework between our little...sessions. This homework will take at least an hour every day and involves tasks such as listening to tapes, performing brief exercises, and so on and so on. I'll be here to help you, and so will the others, so don't get too caught up in the work aspect of it. I'll try to come up with ways that get the job done, but without it feeling to much like torturous math homework after a day of fucking math at school."

Sans chuckled at the conviction in your voice. "for the record, i like math."

You flashed him a playful glare. "well, bully for you!" He chuckles again and your heart warms as you continue. "What I'm saying is, commitment, time spent on homework, is an essential part of this method; if you don't feel like you can make that commitment, it would be best not to start at all. Last chance, Sans. You sure you really want to do this?"

He blinked slowly, actually considering, before he slowly nodded.

You felt weak kneed you were so relieved.

"Good. Good, okay. Now, these sessions and the 'homework assignments' are going to teach you how to be more fully aware and present in each moment of life. The good news is that this makes life more interesting, vivid, and fulfilling. On the other hand, this means facing what is present, even when it is unpleasant and difficult. In practice, you will find that turning to face and acknowledge difficulties is the most effective way, in the long run, to reduce unhappiness. It is also central to preventing further depression. Seeing unpleasant feelings, thoughts, or experiences clearly, as they arise, means that you will be in much better shape to 'nip them in the bud', so to speak, before they progress to more intense or dangerous emotions."

"got it." Sans was starting to sound a little impatient. He was sitting cross legged on his bed, you mirroring him almost exactly as you sat at the foot of the bed. "we gonna get this party started, or should i check back in next millennia."

You gave a half-hearted huff. "I'm just trying to prepare you."

"what you're doing is drawing out the suspense. not the best thing for a nervous guy like me."

Right. Right. You were being selfish. Of course he was getting antsy. 

You took a deep breath, and finally plunged in to the soul of the matter. "Sans, do you know what the word 'autopilot' means?"

"uh, i guy who flies cars?"

"Sans."

The skeleton smirked, then gave a shrug. "isn't it like in airplanes and stuff, when they set its course and it kinda just keeps it without having to be steered directly."

You nod. "More or less. It can also refer to human - or, uh, monster - beings. It is the act or function that might take place within us without conscious thought, as a result of routine or habit."

"...okay."

"Sometimes, our minds are like planes, or cars. On autopilot, mile after mile falling behind us without us even realizing it. In the same way, we may not be fully present, moment-by-moment, for much of our lives. If we let ourselves, we can let everything just slip by us. We can be miles away from ourselves without even knowing it. On automatic pilot, we are more likely to have our _buttons_ pressed; these are events around us and thoughts, feelings, and sensations in our minds that can trigger old habits of thinking that are often unhelpful and may lead to a worsening mood. Spiraling thoughts."

"heh...sounds mighty familiar."

You thought it might.

"By becoming more aware of our thoughts, feelings, and body sensations, from moment to moment, we give ourselves the possibility of greater freedom and choice; we do not have to go into the same old mental ruts we've dug for ourselves over the years, that may have caused problems in the past. The aim of all this is to increase awareness so that we can respond to situations with choice rather than react automatically. We... _you_ do that by practicing to become more aware of where our attention is, and deliberately changing the focus of attention, over and over again. So! To begin, we're going to use attention to different parts of your body as a focus to anchor your awareness in the here and now. That way, you'll be training yourself to put attention and awareness in different places at will. We'll call this theeeee.....Hm. Body scan exercise, I think they called it in class? Yeah. We'll go with that. And that's what we're going to work on this week."

Sans looked a little overwhelmed. "whoa, whoa, whoa...this week? you mean we're going to take an entire week just on me thinking about my body parts?"

Okay, when he said it like that you felt really fucking uncomfortable. "Um...yes?"

He looked defeated. "this is going to take forever."

"Nope!" You reach forward and force-ably straighten him back out of his slump. He startles, but you're too intent on making him keep trying to really care. "You do not have my permission to wimp out on me, got it? All good things take hard work and perseverance-"

"yay, my two favorite things."

"-AND besides..." You put on your most sincere expression. "You totally promised me you'd try. No backing out now, Bones." He hadn't, but you were taking his word as bond. He agreed, and that was as good as a promise to you. You had weird promise-standards apparently.

Sans sighed. "...okay, lady...walk me through this."

You nod. "Alright. Where's a place in this house that you feel the most comfortable? The most safe? Secure?"

The skeleton hummed, then gestured tiredly to his room. "here, i guess. i mean, it's where i always go when i need to be alone."

"Great. then we won't have to go traipsing downstairs just yet." You consider your friend - he really is starting to feel more like a friend - No! No, no, think of him as a patient. getting to attached will only make this harder. 

You already know it's already to fucking late to worry about that. You are completely invested in what happens to this sad, sorry little monster.

"Okay. Now, are you more at ease sitting, or would you like to lie down for this?"

"uh...well-"

"Sitting like this is killing my spine. I can only imagine how it feels to you, without all the muscles and organs to keep you supported." He literally only had that thin stack of bones keeping his lower half grafted to his upper.

As if taking that as his cue of what to choose, Sans slowly uncrossed his legs and moved to lie down.

"On your back," you instructed as you quickly moved off the bed, leaving it all for him. Sans hesitated, then stretched out, skull on his pillow and hands clenched shakily on top of his sternum. He was nervous. You could understand, but that was pretty much the opposite of what you wanted. You gently reached forward, watching him for any negative reactions, and carefully took hold of his wrists, guiding his arms down until the were resting at his sides. His chest rose and fell with strained, careful movements. So maybe you hadn't gained quite as much trust as you'd been hoping you had. He was still really wary of you, maybe even a little afraid. This whole thing was really getting to him. If you didn't start making progress, he was probably going to give in and give up, strung to tight to continue.

"Shhh, relax. Relax and breath," you instructed in a whisper. "Just let yourself be. Open. Fully in the present." You turned his wrists with utmost gentleness, until him palms faced upward, then you let go, taking a step back.

He looked so small lying there, on his back and completely vulnerable. This was your first time doing this with a living, breathing person, and you hadn't quite gotten this feeling from the textbooks. this strange...power-slash-humble-protection. He was trusting himself to you. You had the power to desolate his trust, but the care and heart to stay your hand, to give him what he needed.

"Good....Good, Sans." He seemed to be breathing a little easier. Still a little tight, but that was okay. Everything was going to be okay.

"th-this is awkward as h-hell," the skeleton muttered with a tight chuckle. No real humor.

"I know," you reassure. "Just bear with me, buddy. Now, try to stay awake."

"h-heh...you don't know me very well, do you?"

"Please. Keep your eyes open if it helps, but stay awake. Don't fall asleep.'

"...okay. if you say so."

Your heart gave a warm little shiver at his words, but you smushed the feeling immediately. 

"i won't fall drift off, even if i close my eyes. i'm too keyed up..." He looks up at you, still stiff as a board but staying in the position you'd moved him into. "m'i _supposed_ to close my eyes?"

Your brain's still misfiring. "Y-yes. It...It helps anyway. You okay with that?"

"...no? and yes? i think i can give it a try." He gives you a weary smile. "just don't try any funny business, lady." He sounds like he's joking, but somehow you know he's not.

"You have my word I won't."

Sans nods slowly, then closes his eyes. You can tell they're still open a little, tiny slits so he can keep watching you, but you don't call him out on it.

"Sans, keeping your eyes closed," you begin in a low, measured voice, "I want you to start focusing your attention."

"...on what?"

"Everything. The air around you. The sounds of the morning outside. The feeling of you, of your body, of you lying there...Focus on the fact that you are breathing, that you are inhaling and exhaling...slowly. Slowly. Let it just sort of flow through you, and follow it with your mind. In....and out...in...and out, and just let it happen. Focus on that, Sans. On you." You give him a moment to do so. Another moment. "How does if feel?"

"...it feels...nice?" You take extreme satisfaction in the fact that his eyes are fully shut know, and that his trembling has subsided a little. he's breathing evenly, soothed by your voice. "kinda like i'm...like i'm floating...it's peaceful. i feel calmer..."

"Yes, exactly. Keep breathing, and keep focusing on it. With every exhale imagine you're slowly sinking further and further into the mattress. Don't be afraid, just allow yourself to settle. Go limp. Relax."

He's trying, you can see he's trying. Your fondness for him swells as he manages to loosen the tension that's been plaguing him all morning. Now that he's had a taste of the calm your offering, he's not fighting you anymore.

"Excellent, yes...You're doing a really, really good job," you praise. "Now, Sans...Keep going, and I'm going to fall silent for a while, okay? And what I want you to do is keep focusing on yourself, on you lying there. Your mind is probably going to start trying to wander at some point. If that happens I want you to acknowledge it, but then politely dismiss it. Push it aside and focus just on yourself. On your breathing..."

You do as you said you would and fall perfectly quiet. In fact, so as not to be a distraction, you settle into a cross-legged sit on the floor, neck tilted back a little so you can still see Sans clearly. He seems a little uneasy as the silence drags on, and you can tell he's struggling. Every time he manages to settle, he twitches, probably assaulted by a hundred thoughts, before he stills as he finally succeeds in pushing his mind clear once more. It's a hard battle to witness, over and over and over, but with every victory the fights look shorter and easier. He's making progress.

You leave him be for several minutes, the only sound being the birds beyond the drawn curtains and blinds of Sans's bedroom window. There's only the two of you, existing in the warm orange light of the overhead lamp. You the watcher, and Sans the watched. When a sufficient amount of time has passed, you carefully re-stand to your feel and make your way over to his side again. With all the ease of someone who enjoyed yoga and meditation like settings, you began directing him in a soft, calm voice.

"Inhale, yes, that's it. Imagine the air is flowing into your-" you fumble, but regain your mental track with ease. "Flowing into your ribs. Let it travel down; imagine it's gone into your left leg, down to your toes. With the exhale imagine it comes back up, flowing all through you, then back down into your right leg and you breath in again. yes, yes, that's right. Slow and gentle. Follow it with your thoughts, Focus only on that and the sound of my voice. Easy...Gentle...Peaceful...Yes...Good...Good, Sans."

He's completely calm now. The trembling is utterly nonexistent, his body lax and limp against the mattress. Arms at his sides, palms up, he's like an offering laid down at an alter. Completely open. Completely free and helpless. Vulnerable, again, is the only word that truly fits what you see before you.

"This is the body scan, Sans. Whenever you are going about your day, and something triggers you; you feel scared, or sad, or angry...i want you to focus on your breathing, how it moves through you. I want you to put this into practice. It's going to help you a lot. Just breathing...in and out...in....and out. Just imagine that you're relaxing, and just let those bad feelings and thoughts go. let them drift away on every exhale, far away from you. To where they can't hurt you anymore."

He lean forward over him and place a hand on his ankle, pressing down slightly, adding weight. His breath stutters, but he doesn't jolt like you feared he might. You adjust your hold, still pressing down. "You can feel this; the weight. Focus on it, just like with the breathing. It's happening here, now. This is the present. This sensation of pressure, it's real. Live in it; live in the moment of it."

"o-okay..." The word is little more than a sigh.

You slide your hand down to his foot, squeezing it gently and repeating your words, then bring your hold up to his kneecap, all the while reminding him to feel, to live in the here and now. He follows you effortlessly now, completely trusting, unconcerned with how your hand pressed into his upper leg before going back down to his ankle. You repeated the actions on his other leg, then his arms. You consider adding pressure to the sides of his pelvis, as the textbooks had directed, but you didn't feel comfortable with that, and you had a feeling Sans wouldn't care much for it either. You skipped that part, hoping you weren't breaking any important laws of science by doing so.

"You don't have to force anything to happen, Sans. Just drift, and yet focus as you drift. Exist...Exist...If you don't feel anything, don't worry, it's okay. Just act as an observer outside of yourself. Watch yourself. Study yourself. Notice how you feel today, and forget about days in the past, or days to come. There is only now. Only you. You're you, and you're fully alive."

And there you have it. You give Sans another few moments, and then you stand back up straight. "Alright, you can come back now. Ease yourself out of it. And now...you can open your eyes."

Sans does so with a little sigh, his socket lips fluttering open, revealing large, crystal eye lights. They're dilated almost, or something like it. His breathing is still slow and measured, calmer than you've seen him since you met him. He blinks a few times, then his gaze slides up to meet yours, a small smile melting into his expression. You return it with a smile of your own.

"How do you feel, Bones?"

"i feel...i, uh-' He struggles for the right word. "i guess i'm...rested? i feel like i could sleep...but at the same time i feel really, really alive. i feel more...with it. more so than i've been in a long time; like everything before was just a surreal dream." He continues lying there on the mattress, and you let him.

"You did a really good job," you assure him again. "Now, i want you to do this every day before we move on to next week's session. I'll help you, and when I can't, one of the others can. I'll teach them the method and stuff. If some days it doesn't work quite so good as it did today, that's alright. Don’t expect to feel anything in particular. In fact, give up all expectations about it. Just let your experience be your experience. Don’t judge it. Just keep doing it, and we’ll talk about it next week before we charge into the next session. We'll choose one routine activity every day and make a deliberate effort to bring moment-to-moment awareness to that activity each time you do it. It could literally any activity, but we'll figure that out as we go. Whatever we decide on, simply zero in on knowing what you are doing as you are actually doing it. Okay?"

You really hoped this wasn't all too much.

Sans slowly sat himself up. "yeah...yeah, sounds good."

"Great!" You pick up the dirty plates and start heading for the door. "I'll leave you to get dressed and put these in the sink. Today's supposed to be really nice, I say we get a little sun." You're just about to leave out through the door frame, when Sans's voice resonates after you.

"l-lady, wait!"

You pause, looking back at him with curious attentiveness. He picks at a piece of link on the blanket he's sitting on. "...Yes, Sans? What's wrong?"

"nothing's wrong...per say, it's just...it's just-" he sighed, meeting your gaze with intense gratitude. "thank you, lady...thank you... _j-joe._ "

You feel so warm and cozy inside you might catch fire. You smile at him, gentle and kind and fond.

"You're welcome."


	17. Unexpected Alliance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't sleep, so I wrote instead  
> Thnx for all the comments and support guys,

'You're welcome.'

It's a phrase you're becoming intimately familiar with. You hear if from Sans often, and Toriel, and Papyrus, and...Basically everyone. You really can't fathom just as to why they're so grateful. For you, this is all just second nature; caring about someone and wanting to help them. It makes you wonder if maybe, even knowing the implications, you're not taking Sans and his fight with depression seriously enough. Then again, the little dude had stepped out in front of your car with full intent of being hit. That was about as serious as this type of shit could get. However, you always found yourself brushing off their gratitude with a shrug and a blush, saying things like 'it's no trouble', or the ever popular 'it's nothing, really'. Maybe your being stupidly modest. Maybe the truth of just how much your accomplishing just hasn't hit you yet. But you're sure it will eventually, and tears are more than eminent.

It's been three days since that early morning in Sans's room, with the skeleton laying on his back, arms at his sides and palms up, breathing as you gently walked him through the training you'd decided to pursue. He'd done well that day, staying calm and satisfyingly steady and cheerful. The others had noticed too; like you had awoken a little spark deep in Sans's spirit, and it had brought new life to him. Of course, you weren't foolish enough to expect it to last; not after just one session. And you had tried to tell Sans that, tried to tell the others too, that for every victory met, there was sure to be slips and slides backwards. You weren't being an Eeyore, it was just the truth. The mind was a weird tangle of neurons and stuff, and while Sans didn't have a physical brain, his 'mind' worked exactly the same way. Which meant he was doomed to the same pitfalls and relapses that all humans go through.

You just wish it didn't have to happen so soon.

Day two had gone...okay. Not as great as that early morning, but good enough that Sans had still been delightfully optimistic. Instead of having him lie in bed for the body scan exercise, you'd had him try the whole focusing thing while eating lunch. Most everyone had been out of the house again, just like your first day there, with the exception of you, Frisk, Sans, and Alphys. The yellow lizard scientist had wanted to learn how to help Sans, and Sans, in turn, was fine with her learning. It had been a little awkward for Sans once they actually settled in to do it, you gently helping to keep his mind focused as he ate and breathed. Having an audience certainly wasn't a positive influence on the results, but Sans had pulled through with the same calm as before, even if it did take a little longer with frisk and Alphys watching. You ended up doing the body scan twice that day, later in the afternoon, this time with Alphys helping direct Sans's thoughts. She did pretty well, considering, and her stuttering became almost nonexistent after a while, her calming down just as much as Sans was.

Had everything gone on like that, easy and clean like a knife through warm butter, it would have been great...but...It was the third day that Sans encountered his first hangup. And it did  _not_  go over well. At all.

Sans had woken up that morning looking particularly agitated, much like that first morning in the monster household; the morning he'd stabbed your hand. He was far quieter than normal, and when he did speak or smile it was forced and fake. He had terrible shadows under his sockets, like someone had decided to use his eyes as punching bags, and he kept scratching at his arms. Not like an 'itchy' sort of scratching either. This was an irritated, self-directed sort of scratching, the kind Papyrus had warned you about. In fact, all day long, Papyrus, when he was home, kept gently batting at Sans's fingers whenever he caught his shorter brother in the act. Sometimes Sans stopped without comment; sometimes he jerked away and resumed until Papyrus was a little more forceful.

You'd tried asking what was wrong, but Sans had merely shrugged and muttered something about you not understanding. Fair enough, but that didn't mean he could resort to hurting himself. After talking to Papyrus, you gleaned that Sans had probably had a nightmare the night before. You vaguely remembered hearing something, but you were a pretty sound sleeper when you were tired, and World War III could have happened and you wouldn't have noticed. It seemed like a pretty obvious conclusion though, and it explained the shadows under Sans's eyes.

So, all in all, you shouldn't have been surprised that, when you sat Sans down in the living room for another body scan session, he became a stubborn ass. He sat slumped and lifeless, and not the kind your methods required either. He was supposed to be relaxed. This was just...dead. Apathetic.

You tried not to let this minor setback, this one bad day, get to you. And you'd be damned if it got to Sans either.

"Come on," you encouraged. "Focus on your breathing. Just let it flow in and out, all through your-"

"it's not working."

"Sans."

"it's not." He sounded like that fact was encased in cement, unchangeable and immovable. "trying this is gonna be a waste of both out times, so why even bother."

You frown, and stand up from the floor where you've been sitting indian-style. "Okay. I think we both know that's not true."

He doesn't say anything. The poor, stiff-headed bastard. You try to be understanding, you know he's hurting, but you can't just let him give up. Not after just three days. Not on your watch. You sigh, close your eyes, and let all the tension out of your shoulders before reopening them. He's not meeting your gaze, but whatever. "Tell me what's wrong, Sans," you whisper carefully.

He gives a bitter chuckle. "oh, i think it's pretty easy to see what's wrong."

"Enlighten me."

His eye lights snap to your face and he almost,  _almost_ , growls. "i'll give you a hint," he says viciously. "it has no skin or organs and'sa complete waste of space."

You know the answer he wants is 'Sans', but you're not about to fall into that little trap. "Okay," you say patiently. "Let's drop the sarcasm...Tell me in detail, what's wrong. Just...let it all out. Yell at me, if that's what you need." Stupidest thing you've ever said; you hate being yelled at, but for Sans's sake you'll endure.

"this isn't going to work," Sans stated again heatedly.

"Why not?"

"because-!" He curls in on himself, anger disappearing like flash paper, only to be replaced with extreme sadness and despair. "because i...i-i can't do this, joe." He's started to call you by your name these last few days, and even now it makes your heart feel warm and light. "it's too hard. this whole...body scan thing...it's just starting to feel like a burden. i can't concentrate...i can't stay focused; my mind keeps wandering off, i-" He sighs, slumping further into the couch cushions. "an' every time my mind wanders and i try to pull it back, only for it to wander again, i feel like it's all just me going in circles, and then i start to worry about whether i'm doing it right at all. every time you say relax, to breathe, i think of my breathe puffing into the cold air of snowdin. every time you say feel my surroundings, all i can feel is how scratchy my clothes are, or how the springs in the couch are hurting my spine, and those thoughts just lead to more and more and more and more and it's all just too much, i can't-" He buries his face in his hands, shivering. "i-i can't..."

You don't argue with him; that's the last thing he needs. So, what you do instead, is carefully move until you're sitting next to him on the couch. You don't touch him, you make sure there's space between the two of you, and you wait. You're not sure if he's crying or not, you don't hear any sniffling, but he's definitely rocking under the rugged force of his emotions, and there aren't any words you can give to make it easier for him. So you keep waiting. You wait, and you wait, until finally he starts to talk again, voice muffled behind his hands.

"n'know you mean well, joe...n'know you want to help me, but...don't you wonder if i'm not too far gone to save?"

"Never," you reply without hesitation. "It's never to late to save someone, right up to the minute their spirit leaves their body and they breathe their final breath."

He seems to consider that. Then says, "my mind's all over the place...i tried....i tried too hard to stop it, i think..."

You nod. "Possible. Probable, even."

"you keep saying that i gotta accept things as they are now...but that just feels so-" He cuts off, looking away from you. Is he...ashamed?

"So what, Sans?" you goad gently. "What does it feel like?"

He grits his teeth. "feels...unreasonable...i can't do that. i don't have it in me."

"Then don't force it," you instruct. "Just go through the motions, and just let what happens happen. If your mind wanders, let it. If you can't relax all the way, then relax as much as you can. Worrying about thinking will only make you second guess yourself, and undo everything you've worked so hard for this far. It'll get easier, Sans..." You reached out and carefully laid a hand on his knee. He didn't flinch. He didn't jerk away. "I promise. You can't let this rough patch get to you. And you don't have to do it all on your own, okay? You've got me. I'm...I'm not going anywhere. As long as you need me, I'll be right by your side, until the day you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't need me anymore." Something in your chest faltered. "Okay?"

He didn't look completely convinced, and that hopelessness was still strong and present, but after a moment he nodded slowly. "...okay."

You two didn't do the body scan just yet after that. Instead, you took Sans outside, let him see the sun above and hear the birds. The reminder of the surface seemed to better his mood after a time, and when everyone got home that night he was in far better spirits. It wasn't until bed that you tried again, and Sans lay on his bed and complied to the routine without resistance. It went well; he said his mind wandered a little, but once he stopped thinking about not thinking, things went a lot smoother. You both worked out a system. During the body scan, you watched Sans intensely. If he twitched, or if he tapped his fingers against the bed, it meant that he had gone off track, and you would pause in your narration. After he regained his focus, you would continue. Eventually, over the course of the next few days, Sans rarely tapped or twitched at all, and you even caught a relieved smile flit across his face one time. Toriel and Alphys were both assisting you now, each taking a day, but you noticed that Sans always responded best to your voice, to your words. And it made you feel...amazing.

Finally, the weekend rolled around, and you started preparing yourself for the second week of treatment. It was daunting, to say the least, but Sans gave you knew purpose and energy, especially when he came to you that one night, a genuine smile on his face.

"it's working," he'd said, all teeth. "it's like i can actually feel the breath going down to the base of my foot, right down to my toes and back out again. sometimes i don’t feel much of anything, but then i think ‘if there’s no feeling, then i can be satisfied with the fact there is nothing to feel.’ it’s not something you can do half a dozen times and get a result from, it’s got to be a daily thing. a weekly thing. or however long it takes; i get that now. it becomes more real the more you try it. i'm almost..." He blinked, as though surprised with himself. "i'm almost looking forward to it."

That, right there, was worth more to you than all the tea in China. All the gold in the Old West. All the stars in the heavens. Because if Sans was seeing a difference, then you were doing something right. All he needed was a push, a structure to keep time to. If he could adjust to that kind of structure, then maybe other things in his life would as well. The exercise was merely an imprint of the order and balance he needed in the rest of his existence. And Sans knew that now.

You couldn't have been happier.

* * *

It's stupidly late by the time you've typed up all of your notes on the spare laptop Alphys lent you. It's a Mac, not your first choice, but you had always been pretty versatile in your tech choices. You're sitting in the living room, nothing but the sound of your fingers typing and the nearby clock ticking to break the silence. Everyone has long since gone to bed, and your just about ready to do the same. You just wanted to make sure you were all set for session two with Sans in the morning. He's been doing so well, and you don't want your own inefficiency to get in the way of his healing progress. You've got all of your papers spread around you; it's a fucking mess, but to you it's organized chaos.

You type the final word from your scribbled notes and give a tired sigh. You mentally congratulate yourself on a job well done, and move to close the lid of the laptop, when you realize Undyne is standing in the living room entree, and she all but scares the shit out of you. You gasp, jolting hard enough that you almost drop the laptop and a number of papers flutter off the couch and onto the floor.

 

"D-Dammit, Undyne!" you hiss, trying to stop the shivers going down your spine. You're not scared of Undyne, per say, but looking up and seeing all those pointy teeth, unannounced and unexpected...Well, that wasn't a good way to appeal to your trusting side. Undyne, at least, had the decency to look guilty.

 

"Shit, sorry, uh..." She moved to help you gather up the stray papers, but by the time she's kneeling beside you on the floor you've already gotten them all. So you both just sit there on your heels, looking at each other awkwardly. Your trying to come up with something to say, something that won't sound totally rude or stupid, when Undyne takes the initiative. "Hey, uh, look...I know you don't really like me or anything, but-"

 

"That's not true," you cut in automatically. You might still be a bit pissed off at her, and find her cold and hard to deal with, but you'd never go so far as to say you didn't like her. You felt a pang of guilt at the realization that your actions might have come off as such. "I don't...not like you? I just don't...know you very well."

 

Undyne blinks. "...Oh. Uh. That's...good to know." Her enthusiasm is lacking. So is yours.

 

You give a nervous chuckle, it sounds ludicrous in your own ears. "So, ehm...did you want something?"

 

"What?"

 

"You were lurking in the doorway," you reiterate. "Like you wanted to say something. What is it?" She hesitates and you can't help but laugh again, this time a little more genuinely. "Aw, come on, I don't bite." Ironically, this is the first person you've ever said that to who totally could, and might, bite  _you_. You cover up by adding, "Really, truly, Undyne, what's up? You can talk to me." You're playing the theropist here anyway, right? Maybe she's having relationship trouble with Alphys.

 

Undyne winces, then rubs at her neck. "You were just about to go to bed though, right?"

 

Yes, but, "It can wait."

 

She sighs, like she's resigning to something. "I just wanted to ask you...something..."

 

"...Yeah?"

 

"About Sans."

 

Oh. Well, that was...unexpected. For a single second you want to hit her upside the head with your laptop and tell her to fuck off, because she doesn't deserve to ask about Sans after what she did to him...But when you look into that single eye of hers you see something. Something sad, and worried....tender? An honestly softer emotion than any she's yet shown you, and it catches you completely off guard. You blink several times like a dork.

 

"Um...o-okay. Shoot."

 

"Sans and I aren't...close," Undyne begins. "I mean, we...This isn't coming out the way I want it to."

 

Your patient. "Take a deep breath. It's okay."

 

She gives you a weird look, but complies, and then launches in again. "I've known him for a long time, ever since the underground when he was a sentry and I was his captain, but...I never really... _knew_  him, if that makes sense?" It did. You nodded encouragingly and she continues. "He's like this fucking mystery all the time, all fake smiles and stupid, lame jokes...but sometimes..." She winced. "Sometimes he looks like he's hurting inside, you know? And, when I saw that....I felt it was my job to fix it. Even if that meant-"

 

"Tying him down to a table," you finished coldly.

 

She winced yet again. For someone with one eye, she pulled the face off pretty well. "...Yeah. But, come to find out, that was, like, the worst thing I could have done, and the next thing we know he's missing and-"

 

"Undyne?"

 

"...Yeah?"

 

You consider your words carefully, but there's really only one way you can say this. "Are you feeling...guilty?"

 

A long pause, wherein you both just stare into each other's faces, and then Undyne's face melts into something not all that unlike surrender.

 

"Hell yeah I am," she murmurs.

 

Wow. That's really, really something you hadn't been expecting. Not so much that Undyne is feeling guilty over what she tried on Sans, but that she's willing to admit it. Okay. Okay, you need to take this in stride. You still don't know what she wants from you. "Mm," you say calmly. "So...why come to me? Don't you think you sound be talking to Sans about this?"

 

"He...won't want to talk."

 

You frown. "Why not? Sans is a lot of things, but from what I see, he's not petty. He made up with Alphys."

 

Undyne groans in frustration. "No, no, it's not that, it;s-Ugh!" She slumps, looking ragged and tired. She glares down at the floor for a minute, like it personally offended her, before she sighs. "You didn't see his face."

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"His face. When I tried to...to wrestle him onto that table. He was...He was so fucking  _scared_." The very idea seemed to pain her. "Like he was looking up at me and seeing someone else; someone who scared the living shit out of him. He was shaking, rattling like a....a..."

 

"Maraca?" you supply, before remembering that Undyne might not even know what the hell a maraca is. She gives you another weird look, but then continues.

 

"Anyway, i let go of him then, and he blipped off to his room, but..." She rubbed her temple, looking almost haunted. "I haven't been able to get that image out of my head; of him lying there, all vulnerable and frightened of me. Like he actually thought I was going to-" She cut off, shaking her head. "It isn't right. I messed up, and I admit that, but still it isn't right the way he reacted."

 

"You startled him-" you begin, but Undyne isn't finished.

 

"That wasn't the expression of someone who was startled. Sans knows me, he knows I would never do anything to hurt him, and yet..."

 

You think you know where she's going with this, and something cold and heavy settles in your chest. "And yet, he acted like he couldn't tell the difference between you and...someone else?" You feel sick. "Someone who's hurt him in the past."

 

Undyne nods like it physically hurts to do so. "I've seen stuff like that before. You humans call it a buncha weird letters and stuff."

 

PTSD. Shit.  _Shit_. You weren't qualified for that. Were you?

 

"If Sans has got something like that..." Undyne frowns. "It makes sense he'd want to...to off himself, after I dredged up something that's obviously scarred him so deeply."

 

Your heart stings with sympathy, enough so that you actually reach out and touch Undyne's arm. "Hey...It isn't your fault," you say softly. "Sans didn't try to do what he did because of you. He was already feeling down long before that." There would have been signs, but you don't say that. Undyne needs assurance, not more blame and guilt. "Sometimes it's the people we least expect who end up...hurting themselves. Killing themselves. Hell, just look at Robin Williams. He was, like, the most talented funny man on tv, in the movies, live; you name it. He always seemed so happy, so vibrant, and yet all that time..." You shook your head. "It's not anyone's fault, exactly. We can pass the blame all we want, but that isn't going to do any good for Sans. The 'what if's don't matter now. Signs were missed, but he's got our attention now. Mistakes have been made, and more will probably be made in the future, but at least he's not alone anymore. What matters is being for him  _now_. dwelling in the past will only slow the path to healing...for all of us. Sans included.  _You_  included."

 

Undyne takes in your words with a wide eyed stare. You finish, feeling like there's more to say, but if you keep ranting you'll probably just be repeating yourself. So, instead, you wait for Undyne to say her two cents worth. And, after a moment, she does.

 

"I...guess I see what you mean. Still feel lousy as shit about what I did."

 

As she should, but somehow you don't really have the anger to really believe that anymore. "He'll forgive you," you assure. "It might take a little time, but he will. In the meantime, you can do what you can to help him heal. Help him get stronger."

 

"...How?"

 

"Well, first off, you might try apologizing. Even if he doesn't forgive you immediately, letting him know you're sorry will start paving a way for trust. He needs to feel safe around you. Safe when you're with him."

 

Undyne nods slowly. "I can do that."

 

You know she can. "And..." you add, "once he starts warming back up to you, who knows. Maybe he'll get comfortable enough with you that you can help him with his exercises. The ones I've been teaching him to help him relax and feel calm. Somehow I don't think meditation is your thing, but it is important that Sans bonds with each of those he counts as family. You included."

 

"That...actually sounds pretty nice." Undyne gives you a smile that you could almost call grateful. "You've done a lot for us, punk. For Sans." She smirks. "The little bag of bones really likes you."

 

You feel your face flush. Oh god, what the hell?! You try to sound casual. "O-Oh, well, we've ground t-to be really good friends. Sans is very...sweet, once you get to know him."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

What the fuck?! "Are you trying to imply something here?"

 

"Nope. Not at all. Just think he likes being with you, that's all."

 

That certainly didn't  _sound_  like that was all. Her words sounded anything  _but_  innocent. You'd already sort of come to terms with the idea that you liked Sans immensely. Not in any weird, lovey-dovey way, that'd be dumb. He was a monster, you were a human. Shit like that only worked out in Disney movies and stuff. Fantasy. Real life was a lot more unforgiving. Besides, the warm you felt for Sans was only minor. You'd had the hots for guys before in the past, and this was nothing like that. You just felt...comfortable with him. Protective of him. Like knowing he was sleeping safe upstairs was the best thing in the world. Okay, maybe that was a little weird. Maybe you had that weird condition some nurses get for their patience; you'd heard of that. you weren't a nurse, but...Maybe there was a therapist branch to that whole fucking mess? You had no clue.

 

Undyne glances down at the papers you've got clutched in your hands, observing your spaced out expression with amusement. "You working on something?"

 

"H-Huh?"

 

"Pfft. That, in your hands," her smirk grows wider. "It's almost three in the morning; what are you doing down here with all this paper crap?"

 

"O-Oh!" Get a hold of yourself, Jocasta! "These are my notes on Sans's progress and notes on what we'll be tackling this coming week."

 

"Can I see?"

 

The words 'patient confidentiality rocket through your brain, but then you remember that Undyne is family, and Sans never said he wanted his progress hidden from the others. It's probably something you should ask him, but for now...

 

"...Sure." And you hand the papers over to Undyne. You point to the first stack. "I just finished typing these all up on the laptop Alphys gave me, but these are the notes I took on Sans this past week. Little things, mostly. How he reacted to treatment, how he didn't react; that sort of thing. He had a bit of trouble a few days ago, his apathy sort of got the best of him, but he pulled through and that's what matters. Knowing he can make his way past the hard times will only increase Sans's sense of self confidence. It's a great first step."

 

Undyne nodded, a little distractedly. Her gaze scanned the notes, scrutinizing them. You were rather impressed. You hadn't realized Sans meant so much to her. Sans probably didn't realize it either. Hell, you doubted Undyne even really understood just how protective her actions were coming across as. It actually made you smile.

 

"It'll mean a lot to him," you say unexpectedly, totally out of context. Undyne's gaze snaps up to yours, confused.

 

"Eh?"

 

You gulp. "That you care," you explain. "It'll mean a lot to him."

 

Undyne shrugs. "I just don't want to make any more mistakes. Not ones that are going to cost him something that can't be fixed." She looks back down at the papers in her hand, before she hands them back, "Well, just keep plugging away the way you are, I guess. Sans is already looking more with it than usual. And that's...that's really something." She means it. Undyne gets up and stands, helping you up as well. "As for us, we should get a little sleep while we can. Sun'll be up before we know it."

 

"Yeah," you agree, already feeling ready to drop. Fuck cleaning up the mess; you'll do it tomorrow. Time to sleep in a next of your notes. "Night, i guess."

 

"Mm."

 

You're just starting to climb onto the couch when Undyne's voice flits over to you one final time.

 

"Yo, punk?"

 

"Mh?"

 

Undyne shuffles her feet. "I'm going to, uh, talk to Sans in the morning. Try and...clear some shit up between us."

 

You smile. "I think that's a real good idea, Undyne."

 

"Yeah, we'll see," she grunts, but she's smiling. "Night, headshrinker."

 

Oh, god.

 

You roll your eyes. "Night, sushi-brain."

 

You and Undyne are officially friends.

 

It warms your heart more than you would have thought it would.


	18. Hurt and Guilt Effaced

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm back. Update on life, life is good. My best friend and I are dating now, he's such a sweetheart. In fact, he's sort of like Sans in a lot of ways; funny, and kind, has a little brother who's taller than him. And he cares about me, which is something I never had with my ex. There's no bad names, or him yelling at me because I'm not perfect. My new man loves me for who I am, and I'm in seventh heaven.
> 
> Sorry it took so long for me to get back to this. Zeragii actually told me people were sending her messages about whether she knew when i was going to be posting a new chapter. Very sweet of you all, and I know Zeragii said she doesn't mind, but don't go looking to her for answers too often, okay? She's got enough on her plate, and while we've become pretty good friends, Zeragii doesn't have any sway over my crazy schedule. So, thanks, but you know, ease off a little. This story is far from being abandoned.
> 
> That being said, this chapter is kind of dedicated to Zeragii. Or more like I know it's one she'll enjoy. Zeragii really likes stories when Sans and Undyne interact. Not shipped, she doesn't ship them, she just likes their contrasts in characters. So, since this chapter is full of that, then I think I'll just say I went and made it for Zeragii. Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and we get to see some stuff from Undyne's perspective in this chapter, mixing it up a little. Okay. Bye.

It warms your heart more than you would have thought it would...but being Undyne's friend also proves to be a lot of work. Work, as in her being serious about talking to Sans, and her getting you up super early to join her as moral support. Not that you mind. Or. Well. You sort of do mind, but what are friends for if not for the chance of practicing self-sacrifice?

She shakes you awake before the sun's even lightening up the eastern sky, her hair unleashed around her shoulders, all red frizz and tangled knots. Holy shit, how does she brush something like that without getting fed up and lopping it all off? Your hair isn't even  _half_  that length and some mornings you consider going bald as a means of cutting down on your hair-related frustrations.

You groan after Undyne explains why she's there, interrupting your sleep but reminding you of your talk with her the night before. You blink at her stupidly for a moment, before frowning, confused and nonplussed. "Undyne, apologies and one-on-one talks don't work as well when a third party's involved. That's why they're called one-on-ones. Me being there when you talk to him will only make him less likely to open up."

"Pfft. And you think he's actually going to do that, whether you're there or not?" she huffs. She has a point. "Listen, you don't even have to come into the room. Just...hang out in the hall or something."

Great. So you're practicing psychology without a degree and  _now_  you're being coerced into becoming a weirdo lurker outside your best friend's bedroom. Awesome. Just peachy. You blink in surprise at that thought; realizing you consider Sans your best friend. When the hell did that happen?

You groan again, swiping a warm hand down your sleep-stiff face. "Why? What good'll that do?"

Undyne looks uncomfortable, but insistent. "Well, for one, it'll make me feel better knowing you're nearby in case...In case I say or do something stupid and mess this up."

Oh. Oh, okay, that puts this whole thing into proper context. Undyne wants you there in case she says or does something to freak Sans out. Ahhhh, so now the truth comes out. It also shows you a side of Undyne you weren't expecting. Here she is, probably two-hundred pounds of blue muscle, and she's feeling uneasy about talking to a friend she knows she's hurt. It shows she had a heart under all that low-browed intimidation, one that cares about Sans enough that she's actually afraid to do more harm than good. Your expression softens as you sit up a little more on the couch, fixing Undyne with a calm, soothing, and hopefully encouraging smile.

"You're not going to mess this up," you try. "I know it's kinda nerve wracking, owning up to something you did wrong, but it'll mean a lot to Sans. It'll help him heal, and...you too."

Undyne gives a shrug, glancing away. You don't know if she can blush or not, but you imagine she might be. "Come on, Joe. I'm going to do this either way, I'm just looking for a little...support."

"...Ugh, fine, fine." You start untangling yourself from your nest on the couch. "But do we have to do it right now? It's..." You glance at the nearest clock. "Shit. It's five-thirty-four in the morning. I literally just went to bed a few hours ago."

"Didn't get enough sleep?"

You're dumbstruck. "Did  _you?_ "

Undyne grins, amused. "Well, sure. I mean, all I need is twenty minutes or so and I'm ready to go again."

You've made friends with a mad women.

You rub your forehead. "Alright," you say finally, but you make sure your annoyance is perfectly audible in your voice. "I'll stand close enough to hear if something gets fucked up. I'll sit on the top step of the stairs, okay? But I'm not invading Sans's privacy. I've just earned his trust, and I'm not going to lose it, not when it's the difference between saving him and losing him. Got it?"

Undyne grins like you just promised her a Ferrari. If she even knows what a Ferrari is...

You take a few more minutes to properly wake up, with Undyne constantly urging you to hurry. She seems almost eager to talk to Sans, but you know better. You can recognize that frame of mind when you see it; that thought process of 'hurry and get it over with'. Of courage dwindling. Finally you feel at least partially alive, and Undyne leads you into the kitchen and up the narrow staircase. She's quite a bit heavier than you, all pure beef, and the steps creak noisily as the two of you ascend. The minute your feet hit the topmost step, you turn and sit down on it, wanting to make it perfectly clear that Undyne isn't going to be able to bargain another step out of you. This is her mission, her responsibility. Sans and Alphys have already made up, but Sans and Undyne...This is something Undyne needs to fix herself. You're honestly not sure how great an idea this is, but it's something that needs to be resolved, regardless of how Sans takes Undyne barging into his room at five in the morning. Undyne seems to be of the same opinion.

The blue skinned monster flashes you a toothy smile, then walks with surprising agility over to Sans's bedroom door, which is shut. Sans likes it shut at night. She pauses a moment, gathering her nerve you guess, and then she creaks it open, slips in, and closes the door behind her. Your left feeling a bit torn. On the one hand, you really do want Undyne to do this herself. On there other hand...you feel a strong urge to go in and protect Sans from...Well. Just about anything and everything. It's an illogical impulse, and one that you quickly bury.

Undyne knows what she's doing.

In her own... _unique_  way.

* * *

Shit.

_Shit_.

This is pretty much the very last thing on earth she'd rather be doing, but after all that had happened Undyne knew she had put this off long enough. She owned Sans, big time. She owed him an apology, she owed him an explanation, she owed him her support and understanding. But, most of all, she owed him hope. Sans was so low on it nowadays - had he always been like that? And now that he had proven himself...a danger, to himself if no one else, then time was crucial. This couldn't wait. Not anymore.

Encouraged by your presence outside Sans's bedroom door, Undyne made she the door was completely shut, before she began carefully making her way toward the slumbering skeleton's bed. The room is very dark. Does Sans always keep it this dark? Undyne isn't sure, but something about it makes her fins tilt back against the sides of her head. Sans's room wasn't a place she frequented. Why would she? What did it matter to her if the damn little ass liked to burrow away in his horror of a bedroom. It hadn't meant anything; maybe he just liked to be alone sometimes. But Undyne's attitude in that regard had changed drastically in the last few weeks. She had seen quiet, calm, laid-back Sans fall deeper and deeper into a depressive state. He barely ate. He barely slept. He barely talked. And, perhaps worst of all, Sans stopped telling jokes. Maybe it should have been something for her to be grateful for...But, in the end, it had just painted a morbid picture of just how desperate the situation had become.

And then Papyrus had told her about the scratches.

Undyne had been only too glad to help Alphys come up with a plan to help Sans. He was a tricky piece of work, that was for sure; always popping in and out of sight by magic. He had a bad habit of not being around when you wanted him to be, and  _being_  around when you  _didn't_ want him to be. So, the solution had seemed obvious: catch Sans off guard and...be a little rough. Not too rough, he only had one HP for God's sake, but rough enough that he wouldn't be able to disappear at the drop of a hat.

There was nothing, in all her life, that Undyne had ever regretted so strongly.

Sans had been terrified. He had shuddered and shook as she had grabbed him and tried to tie him down. It had been almost like he didn't realize it was her, and was struggling for his life. Even then, he wouldn't have been able to worm away if Undyne had not let him. The guilt and surprise and - fear? - that had filled her as his expression had blanked in absolute primitive horror - it was something she felt would haunt her for the rest of her life. It was like an open wound. Maybe it would never completely heal, and it served her right, but maybe she could remove some of the sting.

She needed to mend whatever relationship she had with Sans.

She needed to say she was sorry.

It was sort of hard to see, but after a moment or two of just standing there, Undyne's eye began to adjust to the darkness. She could make out some of the bedroom's furnishings, including Sans's bed. Taking a deep breath, Undyne moved forward, reminding herself that, should anything go wrong, you were right outside to help. You were way better with Sans than she was. You were kind, and patient, and caring; all the things she was actually pretty bad at with anyone other than Alphys. But it couldn't be that hard. All she had to do was apply the same love to Sans as she did for Alphys. Or, well, not the same-same kind of love, but a love of sorts.

Sans was curled up on his side, only partially covered by the sheets of his bed. He looked so very small like that, so compact in his short, little frame. He was really quite tiny, compared to many other monsters, Undyne included. The image of you bringing him home that night, shattered and unconscious, flashed in Undyne's mind, and her determination to fix things only grew. She moved forward a few more paces, and then stopped right at the edge of Sans's bed, looking down at him with a wince.

This was it.

Leaning forward, Undyne carefully moved to settle a hand on Sans's shoulder, his name already on her lips when Sans jolted awake with a gasp. Her fingers had hardly even grazed him, and he was half way to sitting up, pressed against the wall like he thought something in the darkness was waiting to tear out his metaphorical heart. His breathing was ragged, one eye glowing a warning blue, and the slight sound of rattling bones was audible between them. Undyne merely stared in shock, mouth hanging open and hand still outstretched. They stayed like that for a moment, both stunned and startled by the others' appearance, and then Undyne slowly lowered her arm, swallowing thickly.

"...Shit...Sorry, man. I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"...u-undyne?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it's me."

Sans seemed to relax a little, though his trembling could still be heard. Undyne was actually genuinely concerned, having never seen Sans so off balance. Well, other than his whole little meltdown before Alphys gave him the sedative. She shifted from one foot to the other, uncertain.

"i...i don't feel so good..."

Undyne winced. "We, uh...had to sedate you last night, punk. After the family meeting. You remember?"

Sans went very quiet and very still, before he carefully ground a fist into his eye. "...yeah. i remember...sorry."

The small, weak tone of his voice made Undyne's soul ache. "It wasn't your fault," she was quick to reassure. "Not...Not that. And not a lot of things."

Sans was shivering, fingers digging into the sheets as he seemed to sink even further into his thoughts. "you guys know now, huh?" he asked slowly, softly. " 'bout why i got hit by joe's car."

Undyne's throat tightened. "...Yeah," she choked out. "We know."

Sans gave a small, bitter chuckle. "you must all think m'such a mess..."

"No." Undyne reconsidered. "Well...maybe a little. But we all got our own shit to deal with. Thing is, we're supposed to help each other, and when it comes to helping you, well...We really fucked it up."

Sans gave another weak shudder, curling up even smaller. He looked pretty shaken still, and Undyne began to wonder if it had really been her who had startled him awake, or her in conjunction with something else.

"Nightmare?" she guessed.

"...nah, just...just a little jumpy, i suppose."

"Mm." Undyne gave a nod. She motioned to the mattress. "Can I sit down? I...have something I wanted to talk to you about."

Sans blinked, the sound of his rattling bones diminishing to some degree. He still looked tense as hell, but that blank, senseless terror was gone. The skeleton glanced over at his clock, brow furrowing in confusion. " _now?_  undyne, it's almost six in the morning."

"It's important."

"must be."

"And I wanted to do it at a time when we wouldn't be...interrupted." Sans made a face and Undyne felt her cheeks heat. "Not like  _THAT_ , you fucking turd!" she hissed out, embarrassed. "Jeez, get your mind outta the gutter, man." Sans shrugged, but he still seemed really on edge. Undyne decided, for both their sake, the faster this moved along the better. "It's about...what I did to you. Down in Alphys' lab."

Sans's eye lights dimmed. "...oh."

"Yeah. Oh." Undyne hesitated. "Still okay with me sitting down? I'll leave if you want me to. This is a conversation I want to have, but not one I'm going to force you into if you don't want it."

Sans seemed to consider his options, before he sat up a little straighter and shifted further across the mattress, making room. Given permission, Undyne settled down to sit on the side of Sans's bed, mindful to still give her friend plenty of room. The bed vibrated with Sans's trembling; he was trying to be calm, but his body was betraying him. Was he really that scared of her? Of what she might do? Well, it wasn't like she hadn't done anything to lose his trust. It was something she suddenly wanted to mend above all else.

Undyne took a deep breath. "Sans, I know you and I haven't really ever been...close." When she paused, Sans gave a very slight nod, not looking at her, not meeting her eye. Undyne swallowed and continued, cursing her own lack of emotional experience. "Yeah, we're not close. But I do...care about you. You know that, right? And I wouldn't do anything to...to hurt you on purpose."

Sans released a weak, "...i know."

"But I did hurt you. When I..." She trailed off, feeling ashamed. "In the lab," she specified vaguely. "That was really fucking stupid of me. I sometimes forget that...that not everything has to be done in a rush and by force. I shouldn't have grabbed you. I shouldn't have tried to tie you down to that fucking table. I...I messed up. I just wanted to help you, in a way I thought would work. And, instead, I ended up hurting you." Undyne swallowed again, closing her eye, pushing every ounce of sincerity into her voice. "And I am so, so sorry, Sans." It felt better than she had expected it to, less garbled, coming out easier than anticipated. "Can you forgive me?"

The skeleton before her blinked, stunned, before all of his features slowly unwound and became more relaxed. The blank expression on his face morphed into one of sad, quiet gratitude. Sans inched closer, though he still avoided any contact, and he gave her a tired smile. " 'course i  _can,_ " he said with a very soft chuckle. He stared up, finally meeting her gaze. "and i will. i...don't like what you did, but i also know that it's sorta my fault, for not being, you know..less of an ass."

Undyne gave a breathless huff.

"we really don't get along all that well, never have, but...maybe that can change?" Sans took a deep breath of his own, curling inward like he was drawing strength from deep inside himself. "i forgive you, undyne. and i'm sorry i've caused you all so much trouble."

Undyne was filled with a strong sense of...something. It was like joy, but it still ached. It was good, but felt almost overwhelming. In a surge of gratitude, she leaned forward and snatched Sans up in a hug. The skeleton stiffened, unused to her being so...affectionate. In fact, Undyne honestly couldn't remember ever having given Sans any sort of embrace whatsoever. Yeah, they'd all done group hugs before, but she'd never shown this kind of personalized care for anyone other than Alphys, and it felt...nice. Especially when, after a moment or so, Sans's arms slowly wrapped around Undyne's waist, returning the gesture.

"You're not trouble. You're a bone head, and a prankster, and sometimes I want to chuck you through a wall...but you're not trouble, Sans. You're...You're family. And family sticks together. No matter what."

They didn't stay like that for long; Undyne was pretty sure the universe might implode if she kept it up too long. Sans wasn't really the huggy type anyways, unless it was Papyrus. But still, when the pulled apart Sans's trembling had almost completely gone. He still looked a bit unsteady, but he had tried killing himself lately, so that wasn't really much of a surprise. It hurt, but it wasn't a surprise. Undyne found herself feeling somewhat unwilling to let him go completely, keeping the fingers of one hand gently pressed against his elbow.

"...undyne?"

"Yeah?"

Sans smiled, almost shyly. "...thanks. i've...things have been kinda...rough...lately."

Undyne's heart sank. "I know. Or, well, I know  _now_. We all do. And we're going to help. If you let us."

"i-i want to be helped."

"Then consider yourself our top priority." Undyne smiled as he chuckled. "Joe's going to help too. She...really cares about you, you know."

Sans blushed ever so slightly. "...yeah. i...i know."

"And we're all going to be here for you, so no-" Undyne nearly choked on her words. She swallowed then tried again. "So no more chucking yourself out in front of cars, okay?"

Sans looked away, staring down at the fingers she had still pressed to his arm. He nodded slowly.

"Promise me?"

"...i promise."

* * *

 

You gave a silent sigh of relief, slowly slinking back to the top step. Curiosity had gotten hold of you, and you had crept up to press your ear to Sans's door, listening in. What you had heard broke your heart in all the right ways, and for the first time since arriving in the monster household, you felt you were all finally on the same page. Undyne had been the final, missing piece; the final support Sans needed for them all to help him.

You felt your love for him, for all of them, grow to a near endless depth.


	19. When the Bough Breaks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! Sorry for the long delay, as always. Been good, just busy. Trying to set aside some extra money to hire Zeragii to do more art for this fic. It helps keep me motivated, if you know what I mean. Still have a lot planned for this, it's just going at its own pace.

It was around the six week anniversary of you living with the monsters that everything went to shit.

Not because Sans wasn't doing well, in fact quite the opposite. Sans was doing remarkably well, gaining a mental and emotional strength that Papyrus declared he hadn't seen his brother exude since they were children. Sans actually got up most mornings now, early for him, joining everyone at the breakfast table and showing a good deal more interest in life in general. Every so many days he'd have a bit of a relapse, but he had plenty of people to help him through it, and you absolutely  _loved_  that. Toriel and Alphys were motherly and gentle with him. Frisk was like some sort of human security blanket, draped over Sans's lap on the couch whenever he parked himself there, withdrawn and shaky. Undyne was his motivational speaker and cheering section all rolled into one, and her added devotion to Sans's recovery made a huge difference. Papyrus was, naturally, always there to sooth and encourage when it was needed, and even Asgore stopped in from time to time to do what he could.

And you...you felt like you were in a dream of sorts. A nice dream, wherein every morning you woke up and knew you had a purpose, a mission; someone to help and guide, and it was wonderful. Sans was responding to the treatment with off-the-charts results, and the smile he gave you every day became more and more genuine with each passing session. And with each smile, you heart melted a little more.

At first you had tried to ignore that warm, fuzzy feeling. You ignored the way Sans sometimes stared at you with such an open, honest, loving expression on his face, or how he tended to always be at your side. He was always close; never touching, but close. Undyne's words of 'the little bag of bones really likes you' had become something that you couldn't help mentally repeating from time to time, and every time you did you felt a mix of achy nausea and fluttering joy.

You were old enough to recognize the feeling; you'd had a life once, before this. There was no ignoring that heart throbbing excitement you felt whenever Sans walked into the room and flashed you a look of genuine happiness.

You had a crush.

You denied it to yourself, of course. You'd always been like that. Doubts and self-depreciating comments echoed through your mind and piled up like burning ice clogging a pipe, but then Sans would look up at you and ask if you were okay and you would always say yes. Always. Because you realized you really did care about him. About all of these amazing, gentle monsters. You felt your love for him, for all of them, grow to a near endless depth, to the point it was almost painful to love them.

In all honesty. you probably could have gone on like that forever...

Then everything went to shit.

It was late one afternoon, almost evening on a Tuesday, and you, Sans, and Frisk were camped out in the living room. It was raining outside, somewhat dreary, but the three of you had decided not to be taken in by the gloomy atmosphere, and declared the coming night a Game Night. Frisk had even called Toriel and told her, the motherly goat promising that she and the others would pick up something special for dinner on their way home from the meeting they had been at all day. Frisk had delivered that news most excitedly, listing all the possible goodies that might be coming their way.

You and Sans had carefully opened the overfull closet in the hall between the houses and dusted off various board game boxes, some of which were in very poor condition. They were the sorts of games one would expect to find out for free on the roadside, covers faded from sunlight and pictures smeared by water damage, most of them ones you had never heard of and looked like they might have been popular during the 1950s. But you liked board games, and had never had a problem with reading through instructions on how to play. Undyne and Alphys probably owned some games too, and you knew for a fact that Alphys owned an Anime 'Seen It?' package. You'd ask when they got home.

You and Frisk dragged down every available blanket, pillow, and a few of the smaller mattresses from upstairs and into the living room, setting up a giant nest of comfort. Sans rooted around in the kitchen looking for possible snacks, coming up with two bags of Doritos and a half-eaten back of Pink Circus Peanuts. Not exactly a smorgasbord, but you were certain that, mixed with whatever the others brought home, it would be more than enough.

When the three of you finished in record time, with a good half hour of waiting still to go, you decided to all hunker down and watch TV until Toriel, Alphys, and Undyne arrived. You plopped down into a cross-legged sit on one of the mattresses while Frisk laid down on their belly on a couple of couch cushions, head propped up in their hands as you grabbed the remote and turned on the screen. Sans, predictably, settled down at your side, close, so very close, but never touching. The urge to reach out and pull him closer had been growing stronger these last few days, but you held back. Maybe Sans didn't like to be touched. You had observed, after all, that Sans showed signs of...something other than depression being wrong with him. Something worryingly flinchy and untrusting at times. You weren't sure just yet what it was, but you were patient enough to wait and find out.

The TV came of with a staticky click, staying black a moment before the Ebott City News slowly faded into existence. You leaned forward with a grunt, snatching up the channel guide from under the TV and handed it to Frisk.

"Pick something to watch, Frisk," you directed cheerfully, not too focused on the News. You'd never been one who enjoyed much of what happened in the world. Too depressing.

Frisk took up their allotted task just as they did everything else, with determination, and you settled back with a smile. Your hand accidentally brushes Sans's bony fingers and you both jolt slightly, and pull slowly away.

Clearing your throat, you gave Sans a very kind smile, trying to ignore the way your face feels hot. Which is stupid. Sans is your best friend, and you are NOT going to ruin that friendship over something as silly as a premature crush.

"How you holding up today?" you ask.

Sans shrugged, but it wasn't a helpless sort of shrug; it had more life to it these days. "pretty good. a little tired, but...good."

"I'm glad." You pause, thinking your words over carefully. "How...How do you feel our sessions are going? I mean, do you think they're helping?"

"you know, if you had asked me what i thought about therapy and stuff a month ago, i would have called you a quack." He chuckled and stared down at the blankets and pillows around him. A shyness entered his expression and you felt that little flame of warmth in your heart flicker and then grow just a little bit more. Sans looked up slowly, meeting your gaze, and the full sincerity in his face nearly made you cry. "but...joe, you've...you've really made a difference. i don't-" His voice cut out and he glanced away. "i don't know where i'd be without you. without what you did for me."

You try to laugh off the sudden tightness in your throat. "Sheesh, Bones. Getting all wishy-washy on me?" you joke.

Sans chuckles and plucks a bit of lint off of the nearest blankets. "heh. maybe."

You smile and go silent, but it's a nice kind of silence. Frisk is quietly reading through the channel guide, sending the two of you knowing glances every once in a while. The room is quiet other than the background noise of the weatherman telling you what you could easily figure out just by sticking your head outside, that its raining and will be for the next couple of days. That was fine. You rarely went outside anyway. Not that you didn't like going out, it was just that Sans tended to stay indoors and you wanted to be near him. As Alphys had told you that time in her lab, there were unsavory persons out there that wouldn't think twice about snatching up a monster Sans's size, and him being a skeleton, a very rare species, that made him all the more of a target. Sans only went outside - other than that one time you had run out to get him - when he had someone of significant greater size with him. Toriel, or Undyne, or...well, Papyrus was more or less big enough to take care of himself. You couldn't really picture someone pulling up in a black van and snatching the bigger skeleton up and dragging him away. But you could picture someone luring Papyrus with candy.

You winced. Your mind had taken a dark turn.

No, it was fine it was raining. you liked rainy days; they gave you an excuse to chill out and shirk responsibility. Huh. You were starting to sound like Sans. But you really did like taking it easy, and tonight was a perfect example.

"...Sans?" you asked tentatively.

"yeah?"

You'd spoken without even really thinking, and your brain locked up with a squirm of 'what are you doing what are you doing?!'. You brushed your bangs out of your face, vaguely making a mental note to save up for a haircut. You blushed, realizing that you wanted to say something sincere to Sans in return to his kind words. You stared at your hands, trying to figure out just what you wanted to say; how much you wanted to say. Frisk was probably watching you at this point, but you didn't care. Sans was as patient as a saint, staring at your hands with you like he could help you find what you were looking for in your fingers.

"Sans, I really want to tell you something."

"...okay." He gave you another gentle smile. "you can tell me anything, joe."

You swallowed, not so certain. You let your eyes float round you, coming to rest absently on the television as you started voicing your thoughts. "It might be....kind of silly. And you don't have to...Just, know I'm telling you this as a friend, okay?"

Sans was probably confused as hell, and you could hear as much in his voice. "...okay...?"

This was it. Just tell him how you feel. You weren't confessing love or anything mushy and dangerous like that; you just wanted to tell him how you...felt about him. How he gave you purpose, and happiness, and made your life so much more worth living than you'd had in the past. How he'd changed your whole world, become the close friend you'd never had, and how his family had become your family and that was all because of  _him_.

Gathering your courage, you opened your mouth. "Sans, I-"

And then you cut off. The words turned to coppery lead in your throat and you suddenly felt sick as your eyes widened first in surprise, and then horror. A shiver wracked up your spin, followed immediately by another, and another. Then they weren't shivers, you were all out trembling. Your mind was a cacophony of disbelief and fear. You vaguely felt Sans shift closer to you in worry, doubtless having seen just how rigid you had become, but you couldn't respond, even as his voice barely made it through your gathering panic.

"joe? joe, what's wrong?"

You didn't answer, and when his hand ever so slightly touched your shoulder you lurched forward, broken from your spell, and grabbed the TV remote. You jacked up the volume to an almost uncomfortable level, and continued to stare in terror at the scene that was unfolding before you on the screen. Sans and Frisk were now focused on the TV too, both probably confused but eerily silent as you knee-walked closer to the entertainment system.

The weather had cut to a news reporter, one you were familiar with and had probably been doing his job since you were in grade school. He was balding, what hair he had a pepper gray. His face was very serious, mouth oddly shaped like he had two permanently fat lips. But it wasn't him you were focused on.

It was the woman he was interviewing.

And that woman was your mother.

That alone would have been shock enough to throw you; you'd hardly given your only living parent a second thought since that rainy night you'd hit Sans with your car. Honestly, she wasn't worth wasting thought on at all. You'd sort of just assumed living in Ebott secretly was just as good as leaving for the States secretly; either way your mother wouldn't know where you were and you could start life afresh. But now, as you stared wide-eyed at the screen, the bright white headline perched at the bottom of the interview made you feel like you might faint.

_MOTHER CLAIMS DAUGHTER WAS TAKEN BY MONSTERS. INVESTIGATION UNDERWAY._

A sound escaped your mouth, like a gasp, like a sob, and you felt Sans's hand on you again, his fingers twisting into the fabric of the sweater you'd borrowed from Alphys.

"j-joe?"

You couldn't.

You just couldn't.

You're eyes only hazed with tears as the living room filled with your mother's sharp, unkindly voice:

_"I know it was those beasts! They've made off with my baby, I just know it!"_

God, she was going all out; fake tears and everything. You knew it was all for show. Your mother didn't love you any more than she had loved your father, and he had disappeared too. But your mother had always been one for dramatics and making a scene. If it could bring her popularity or attention, she would do anything to make a fuss.

"shit."

Sans must have finally noticed the headline. He knew this was bad, that monsters didn't need these kinds of accusations when they were trying so hard to integrate into human society. Things were hard enough, without lies and rumors flying every which way. But you knew he only knew half of what was going on. And as the announcer took over and continued the story, you felt like you might actually throw up.

_"Mrs. Taylor of Billinggate Lane says that her daughter has been missing for almost a month. She claims that they had suffered a disagreement, and that twenty-seven year old Jocasta Taylor -"_ You vaguely heard Frisk and Sans gasp -  _"had packed up and left home without a word. Police have since learned that Miss Taylor  bought a plane ticket for the United States, but never arrived for her flight. Filed under missing persons, investigations are in place to find the young woman and give assistance if needed. An anonymous tip claims the woman is still within the Ebott City district, possibly being held against her will by monsters, as the anonymous tip implies. Police say-"_

You'd heard enough. Fear and panic and so many other emotions curled up into a knot in your stomach, and suddenly you were on your feet and running.

"joe! joe, wait-shit!"

You could hear Sans's bony feet stumbling after you as you raced out into the kitchen and into the mini bathroom in the corner. Before he could catch up to you, you slammed the door shut and locked it in a single motion, immediately collapsing to the floor a moment later, loud wracking sobs leaving your lips as you broke down completely.

Your mother was doing it again. She was ruining what little life you had. She had the police out looking for you, hunting you down like a runaway teen on the false assumption that monsters had taken you prisoner- WHAT THE HELL?! Monster were, in your opinion, a hundred time better than humans. They were your friends, and your family; and you only knew a handful of them and you already felt they were more your people than humanity was. You'd actually managed to build yourself something here, and now it was all going to fall apart. You're mom was going to find you, your friends were going to have charges set against them that might affect all of the monster race, and in the end you just knew your mother was going to get her claws back into you. You'd be made to go home and deal with all her shit again. All her nagging and verbal abuse. All that lack of true love and compassion that you had found in the company of Sans and his family.

You'd have to leave them.

You'd have to leave Sans.

You cried until you ran out of tears. You cried so long that Sans's voice broke and finally went silent outside of the door, and he didn't teleport in, because he was just that kind of person. He gave you your privacy. Even when you heard the happy voices of everyone coming home with what smelled like pizza, you stayed locked up in the bathroom. You heard Sans mumble something to them in answer to their worried questions, and then everything went truly quiet.

And still, you continued to cry.

* * *

 

You don't know what time it is, or how long you've been sitting on the tiled floor of the bathroom. You know your stiff, and tired, and achy, and cold...but you have no will to move. No will to do anything but sit there, your tears drying on your face and your gaze staring blankly at the far wall. The small window tells you it's dark and still raining. You haven't heard anything outside in the kitchen or living room for a long time, but some running water upstairs and some light footsteps tells you Frisk is probably getting ready for bed.

You feel guilty, knowing you ruined the child's night. Game Night had been something Frisk had been looking forward to all day, and in a selfish whirlwind of hysteria, you'd wiped all that excitement and cheer away. You were such a fucking looser. You hoped the kid hated you know. You hoped, in some self-hating way, that they all did. 

A few weak tears slipped from your tired and puffy eyes at the thought, but that was it.

You had no more sorrow to physically give. It was all mental now. All emotional.

And then there was the lightest of knocks on the bathroom door at your back. You flinched hard, pulling your legs closer to your chest, making yourself as small as possible, hoping whoever it was would just go away. You wanted to be alone, and yet the concept terrified you. You were so distraught you didn't know what you wanted, what you needed. You barely knew what was up from down.

Again that someone knocked, this time accompanied by a low, soft, familiar voice.

"joe? you, uh...in there, buddy?" A soft sob escaped you, that was all, but that seemed to be enough. Relief sounded in Sans's voice. "okay. h-heh, just wanted to...make sure." A pause, long and uncomfortable, and then Sans tried again. "joe, can i come in?"

You shook your head, even though you knew he couldn't see the action.

"you don't have to open the door. i'll just...i'll just pop in, okay?"

You wanted to say no, but then-

"i just want to take care of you like you've taken care of me. please, joe."

That was all it took. A few more weak tears squeezed from your eyes as you clenched them shut, raising your shaking fist up and above your to rap your knuckles weakly against the wood of the door. You'd have answered with words, but...you weren'y sure you could get yourself to do that much. You settled for a very faint rendition of the first half of 'Shave and a Haircut', which Sans finished with an equally soft 'Two Bits', and then you felt, even with your eyes closed, that you weren't alone in the bathroom anymore.

You had never seen Sans teleport - not yet - and you missed it this time since your eyes were shut, but there was no use denying that he had that power. Because a moment later, you felt two, familiar bony hands wrap gently around your own, and when you opened your eyes there he was. He looked about as tired and wrecked as you felt, almost like he was going through this emotional hurricane along with you. He was still fully dressed in his day clothes and jacket, but he looked thin and withdrawn. Cautious and uncertain. he reached up and very carefully brushed your wet bangs away from your eyes, and gazed up at you with a sorrow and care you just couldn't fathom at that moment.

When you blinked and actually managed to show a little spark of life, Sans gave you a weak smile. "heya." You whimpered out something like a response and he shushed you as you gave a long, pained whine. "no no no, sorry, just-" Tears just barely glimmered on the rims of his sockets. "can we talk? please? i just want to talk. i want to help you."

You were beyond help. But as you stared down into those amazing eye lights that shone like dim crystals, you found yourself nodding numbly.

Sans took a deep breath, adjusting his gentle hold on your fingers to something just a little bit firmer. "that lady on the news...she's your...your mom, right?"

Again you nodded.

"she doesn't seem too...fond of monsters. and if you don't mind me pointing out...you don't seem all that fond of her." You release another dry sob. Sans winces and seems to almost suffer the pain in your heart along with you. "yeah, that's...that's what i thought." He gives your hands a squeeze. "come on, joe. please? i'm...i-i'm trying to do my best here, like you do for me, but i don't know how. breathe?" He's falling back on what he knows. "breathe, joe. just, feel this." He squeezes your hands again, and you squeeze back. "focus on this right now. on you. just like you've been teaching me, joe. focus on the now."

And you do. You focus on the cold wooden door at your back, the cold tile under your butt. There's the warmth of your clothes, the small of soap in the air, and the patter of rain against the window. There's rain hitting the roof too, you can hear it way, way above you. But most of all you feel Sans. You feel his smooth bony fingers laced with your own, you can feel the way he exists next to you, a being unlike you and yet so very much like you it hurts sometimes. You get lost in his eye lights, in the way he breathes just like you do under his clothes, rib cage constricting and expanding with every inhale and exhale.

He's beautiful.

And you want him to know he is, almost as much as he fervently tells you he wants you to feel safe with him.

It's a long time before you get a hold of yourself. Your tailbone is killing you, and you feel like an android in need of it's joints being oiled, but you're in a better frame of mind. Sans stayed with you every second, so patient and kind you could kiss him. And you blush at that thought, remembering your silly half confession you had been trying to set in motion before everything went to shit. Finally, you're calm enough to answer questions, and Sans has plenty. You tell him, well, basically everything. You tell him about your childhood, about your father, about your mother, about your family; everything. You tell him about that night you'd hit him, about why you had left home and where you had been headed. He listens quietly, only interrupting softly every now and again with an occasional question. It feels good, getting it all out, and when it's over he just sits with you in silence, hands still holding yours.

Finally, very softly, he says, "i'm sorry."

You laugh, but it's hardly that. "For what? That my mom's a witch and I've ruined everything?"

Sans frowned. "you haven't ruined anything. sometimes life gets a little complicated, misunderstandings make them even more so, but it can all be fixed. tori's already called asgore and he's working things out with the police. explaining what happened." He rubbed his thumb over your wrist soothingly. "nothing's ruined," he repeated. "just...there's gonna be some questions. and a few...people might show up."

He means the police, you realize. And maybe even your mother.

You shiver.

"but that doesn't mean they can make you leave. you're an adult. you're mom can't make you do shit."

He's got a point.

God, your mother's had her claws in you so long you forget you're your own person. That she doesn't have a say in your life unless you let her.

Sans is still talking. "it's all gonna be okay, joe. you'll see. those claims are gonna fall through like ash through a grate, and there might be a few things to sweep up and smooth over, but no one's gonna do it alone, okay? especially you." He swallowed, tensing a little. "i won't let your mom hurt you anymore."

You choke on another not-laugh. "She's never hurt me. She's just an asshole."

Sans doesn't look convinced. "...words can hurt. the way she's treated you is wrong. and it stops here." He's serious. Holy shit, he's serious. "i promise."

God, you think you love him.

"okay?"

You love him.

"Yes," you whisper. And you mean it. You lurch forward, stiff body protesting, and pull the skeleton to your chest, wrapping him in a desperate embrace. Sans doesn't fight it, but wraps his arms around your weist and hugs you back. "God, yes," you sob into his jacket.

He stays with you until you feel stable enough to leave the bathroom, and when he leads you back to the living room you find everyone there - minus Asgore- all of them passed out in the nest you'd help build earlier. Sans helps you find a place and you settled down to fall asleep almost instantly, comforted by those around you in the unexpected slumber party. Even Frisk is there, curled up like a human puppy on the corner of the couch. Your half asleep when Sans settled down beside you, his hands still wrapped gently around yours.

It's the safest and warmest you've felt in a long while.


End file.
